


Broken Wings

by Sukunami



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-01
Updated: 2004-04-01
Packaged: 2021-01-15 03:28:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21246731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sukunami/pseuds/Sukunami
Summary: A commander returns an escaped 'pet' to his Empress





	1. Chapter 1

"Why the fuck do I have fucking underlings if I'm still forced to go into the fucking cold where I _know _I'm going to lose something fucking important..."

Seifer Almasy continued his low grumbling as he jerked on a heavy black jacket over his uniform while striding through the tight hallways of a war airship. In quick time, the man of golden blond hair and heated green eyes reached a dead-end to the corridor, and with a growl, he punched a red release button. Immediately the metal doors split apart, which caused a blast of cold air mixed with bits of snow to blow into his face, the event making Seifer curse loudly and creatively.

But with his first step out of the airship, the expression of great annoyance was replaced by a front of composure as Seifer walked down the narrow ramp to the snow-covered ground below. He didn't have far to travel from the ship before he located two of his men standing close to the forest edge. Green eyes narrowed at the sight of both men frozen in defensive stances with their backs faced to him, their guns drawn, and looking like fools.

Once within hearing range, Seifer spoke in a deep and imposing voice. "What is taking up my time here, kiddies?"

Both men flinched at the question, but only one turned to face their Commander. "S-sir, the target is conscious and... and he has a weapon, sir."

A pale eyebrow arched in disbelief as the large man walked up to his men and motioned for them to move aside. At the first sight of his objective, Seifer paused to study the person whom he and the rest of the Imperial Fleet had been ordered to retrieve. His initial thought was that the nude man was small and too thin to be a threat, but that thought was quickly amended once the commander noticed that the man's defensive stance was best for those who strike fast and run. Pale lips then curled into a vague smirk as Seifer briefly took note of the peculiar addition of large feathered wings to the lithe man, but that wasn't a great surprise given the hobbies of his Empress. No, what made him smile was the sight of bone protruding from one broken wing and the stains of dark blood that had splattered upon the painfully bright whiteness of the angelic wings.

Green eyes shifted once more, the keen gaze focusing on the small knife held by the cornered man. "And where did you get your hands on that?" the commander asked, his irritation fading with the thus far interesting man before him.

The pale blue eyes of the winged man flashed beneath dark hair before he stated simply, "Borrowed it."

His smirk widening, Seifer took a partial step forward. "And then used it to give some guard a new way to breathe, no doubt. Well, you're facing actual soldiers this time, and we aren't as lazy as those asses."

The dark-haired man said nothing in reply to the warning. Instead he shifted his stance slightly, the vague movement exposing several weaknesses of the winged man, one of which being an injured leg. At that sight, annoyance once again filled the commander when he realized that he was standing in the freezing cold, all to handle a highly injured man who probably couldn't move a single step away from his current position.

"For fuck's sake..." Seifer muttered angrily under his breath as he stepped forward to grab the brunet. The smaller man shifted back in a sign of fear and retreat, but the move proved to be a feint when he abruptly straightened and attacked with the small blade. The commander realized the danger of the situation barely in time to dodge a fatal blow, but the ragged edge of the knife still connected with pale skin as the blade sliced up from the bridge of his nose and across his forehead above his left eye.

Seifer stumbled back from the unexpected strike, but he quickly recovered with a quiet chuckle that built in volume as he straightened. "Oh, you are going to pay for that one, little angel. Count yourself lucky that I'm not allowed to kill you," he stated while pulling out his knife.

Seifer wasn't ashamed to exploit the smaller man's weaknesses as he rushed to the side bearing the broken wing and injured leg. Even so, the dark-haired man managed to slash his knife in a wide arc, the move ruining the commander's thick jacket, but the blade never touched skin. Smirking widely, Seifer flipped the knife in his hold such that the heavy hilt faced outward and he easily smashed the metal against the man's temple with a sickening thud. Unable to handle the blow, the winged man slowly fell backward onto snow flecked with pinkish hues from blood.

Feeling somewhat disappointed by the quick ending to the fight, Seifer knelt next to the man and eyed the silent form before he placed his knife point against the side of the man's nose. "Are we still playing games, or are you truly unconscious?"

When there was no reply or movement from the man, the blond smirked and proceeded to press his blade into the tanned skin. Cutting up in a mirror image to his own wound, he watched the man closely for signs of pain, but the winged man appeared dead to the world. Sighing, Seifer stood and wiped blood from his face before sheathing his knife while he stared down at the naked body half buried in snow. With a scowl at his ruined jacket, he removed it and dropped the large coat to cover the winged man.

"Get this piece of shit to the ship, chain him nice and tight, and then toss him into the back storage room." The two men paled at the order, their hesitation irritating Seifer. "Is there something difficult about my orders, kids?"

While fingering the slashes of his uniform, one of the soldiers eyed the fallen man. "Is he really...?"

"He won't bite for the moment, but I can't make any guarantees if you keep waiting," the commander growled out.

"But, sir, he survived being rammed by the ship, and that fall, and then he attacked--"

"_Private_, are you questioning your leader?"

The two men jumped at the new voice, while Seifer frowned vaguely before turning to face the approaching brown haired, brown eyed man. "What do you think you are doing here?"

The youthful man just smiled as he stopped in place. "You were taking too long, and I wanted a smoke."

Though glaring at the man before him, the blond spoke back to the other two men. "Get moving before I give you a reason to move."

Most likely recognizing the threatening tone to his voice, the two soldiers quickly holstered their guns before leaning down to carry the unconscious man to the airship. But the commander barely watched them stumble away as his gaze remained focused on the shorter man before him.

"What are you doing away from your station, Nida?"

The man's smile didn't falter. "Give me a break, Seifer. Nothing is going to attack us here."

Light green eyes narrowed. "You can't be certain about that. The rebels have gotten smarter since we were privates. It won't do us any good to underestimate them."

Dark brown eyes glanced up at the bleeding wound before he met the threatening gaze once more. "Like you apparently underestimated our target?"

Scoffing, Seifer pushed the man aside and walked toward his ship.

Chuckling, the brunet matched the larger man's stride. "What did he do to catch you off guard? I mean, you basically crashed your precious Hyperion into the man after he pulled that stunt to make you think he was surrendering. He must have been barely standing when he faced you."

"Shut the fuck up, Nida."

With a wide grin, the man said, "Well, maybe it isn't too surprising considering that he is Squall Leonhart, after all."

Seifer looked over at the brunet with obvious surprise. "Leonhart? The so-called 'Frozen Lion' of the rebel force?"

"The one and only."

"When the hell was he captured?"

"Damn, maybe seven or eight months back. It was when we were chasing that assassin who took out General Caraway, not that old man was a great loss or anything."

Seifer nodded, realizing that he must have been too focused on their mission to bother with rumors from the capital city. And now it depressed him that the one time he could face the almost legendary swordsman, Squall Leonhart had been severely battered and certainly not at his best. But as the commander wiped away flowing blood before it could reach his eyes, he had to smirk at the apparent truth to the rumors about the man's skill. It was both a shame and surprise to Seifer that the rebel had been turned into a personal slave for the Empress.

Letting his navigator board the ship ahead of him, the commander glanced back at the area of pinkish snow and murmured to himself. "Next time, I want a real fight."

~ > < ~

With hardened green eyes, Seifer strode down the hallway of metal and black stone without apparent discomfort for his surroundings. Meanwhile, the two soldiers following behind him with the winged man in their hold didn't hide their fear as they suspiciously eyed every shadow of the corridor. The commander found it amusing that the young recruits acted more like prisoners than the brunet, who was faintly struggling to keep up given his injured leg and other pains.

It had been over a year since the blond commander had set foot the Palace of Esthar, and for that reason, he wasn't able to completely hide his awe once he entered the throne room. He had forgotten the disorienting nature of the room which was tainted with the power of the Empress. Despite the large windows which encircled the upper half of the walls, the room always seemed to lack sufficient light. The design of the room itself held no sign of comfort, everything from the available chairs to the sparse decorations were made of the same dark stone and metal combination of the room itself. While Seifer expected the daunting and suffocating nature of the room, the soldiers behind him showed their inexperience as they gasped in shock and fear. With a slight smirk at their reaction, the commander made certain to not hesitate as he walked forward along the deep blue rug which ended in front of the overly large throne made of dark wood.

As he approached, a tall woman of unearthly beauty rose gracefully from her throne. Her golden eyes glittered in the dim lighting of the room as the Empress gazed at her returned pet. Before Seifer reached the end of the carpet, the sorceress spoke in a quiet but clear voice. "Release him and leave us immediately. Except for you, my golden dragon."

Green eyes narrowed vaguely at the unheard title for himself, but Seifer bowed his head to hide his confusion. Meanwhile, his two soldiers quickly released the winged man before they saluted and turned to leave at a much faster pace than when they had entered. To himself, Seifer wondered at the difference between leaders and followers, and with that thought, he glanced at the dark-haired man who showed no fear in front of the Empress.

"Did you truly think you could escape me, my pet?" the sorceress asked in a seductively purring voice as she approached.

With a vague smirk, Leonhart said clearly, "I did escape."

For a brief moment, the lovely face of the Empress was marred by a dark glare before she laughed. "So you did," was the reply as she stopped in front of him and ran lengthy white fingernails along his bare chest. "But was your taste of freedom worth such pain?" she asked while adding pressure to several deep cuts at his shoulder and trails of redness quickly coated her manicured nails.

Though the pale blue eyes narrowed with hurt, the man didn't make a sound.

"You always were the stubborn one," the Empress stated with a hint of pride. Without warning, her hand moved quickly to wrap around the lean neck of the man. As he struggled for breath, there was the rattling of stone before dark green vines shot up from the ground to encircle the lithe body and then wrap tightly around the broken wing. The magically controlled vines proceeded to slowly remove the wing from the trapped body, and Seifer had to swallow back his nausea at the overly clear sounds caused by the crude amputation. He didn't understand how Leonhart could remain silent during such a thing, but then he eyed the elegant hand clutching the man's throat and realized that the sorceress must have been both keeping the man silent and conscious for the full procedure.

That theory proved correct when she released her hold, and a strangled whimper escaped Leonhart before he slumped forward into unconsciousness. The vines supporting him disappeared suddenly, and while the wing dropped noisily to the ground, the man hung in the air as a bubble of some sort surrounded him. Gradually the bubble decreased in size until the body within was curled into a limp fetal position.

With a fond smile, the Empress stepped up to the sphere and stroked the seemingly thin wall. "That was your punishment, my pet. Once your lovely wing has grown back, you will return to my side where you belong. For now, rest and heal," she said with a light kiss to the sphere. After a step back, the sorceress lifted her hand and the bubble instantly rose high to the ceiling. The Empress stared up at her retrieved pet for a silent moment before she turned and faced Seifer. "You have done me a great service, Commander Almasy, as you have done many times before. What reward do you desire?"

Wary of offending the sorceress, Seifer merely bowed his head. "I only did as ordered, Your Highness."

"Do not hesitate, young dragon. I rarely feel this generous."

Recognizing touch of irritation to the woman's voice, the commander quickly decided to accept the offer of a reward. "If it's not too bold, then... an extensive upgrade to my ship would be appreciated."

After a silent moment, the sorceress laughed. "Instead of the gold, or the noble titles, or even the persons that I could offer you, you desire something that would better your ability to serve me? What do you expect to gain from this flattery?"

Seifer didn't reply, in truth only craving more power under his direct control, but if the Empress wanted to believe that he was considering her benefit, then he wasn't one to correct her.

With soundless movement, the silver-haired woman approached the commander and gently placed her blood-stained hand beneath his chin to make him look up. As he stared into the golden eyes, Seifer was overwhelmed by the sparkle of power within the examining gaze.

"You are a handsome creature, my dragon. You would be an excellent addition to my collection."

The commander couldn't help the shiver of distaste which coursed through his body.

The sorceress smiled with amusement as she removed her hand. "It is a shame that you are more valuable as an officer in my army. Go and enjoy the pleasures of the city. It will take time before the engineers can upgrade your airship."

Hiding an exhaled breath of relief, Seifer nodded with a quiet, "Thank you, Your Highness."

"You are very welcome, my golden dragon. I hope you use my generosity wisely."

With a forced smile to show his gratitude, the blond commander nodded once more and saluted his Empress. Resisting the urge to glance up at the one-winged man entrapped in the magical sphere, Seifer turned sharply to the exit and left the large throne room with his first steps slipping on spilt blood. Pale lips set in a frown, Seifer wondered where he had packed his extra pair of boots.

~ > < ~

After a few weeks of enjoying the bars and soft beds of the capital city, Seifer was summoned to the Imperial Palace by the Empress. Not the most trusting of souls, the blond commander had overseen plenty of the work that had been done on his craft thus far, and so he knew Hyperion was nearly ready for battle once more. While he figured he should have new mission orders, Seifer was accustomed to receiving his instructions from the higher-ups, never the Empress directly. For that reason, something about the summoning troubled him, but no one refused the requests of the silver-haired sorceress.

Wearing his formal uniform of black with silver trimming and a short navy-blue cape draped over his right shoulder, the commander strode through the main corridor which led to the throne room. Without the accompaniment of his soldiers and the confident presence of Leonhart, the palace seemed even drearier and more oppressive than earlier in the month. Straightening his posture, Seifer scoffed at his ridiculous sense of fear and walked up to the two large ordinate doors which seemingly opened by their own power.

Maintaining his same stride, the blond commander approached the seated Empress whose golden eyes were strongly felt despite the distance separating them. As Seifer walked forward, he glanced down at the naked woman leaning heavily against the sorceress' leg. The raven-haired woman was one of numerous pets belonging to the Empress, this one bearing catlike features of a black tail, ears, and nails which curled into points like a set of claws. The furry ears were pressed back against soft looking hair, and when the woman moaned without restraint given the Empress pinching a taut nipple, Seifer saw the additions of pointed fangs to the rows of white teeth.

But all of that was noticed in a bare moment before the commander's attention was captured by the sight of the dark-haired man on one knee to the side of the throne. The lightly colored skin of the nude man had been completely healed from the ruined state Seifer had burned into his memory, and the feathered wings folded behind him were perfect in shape and whiteness. Even the choker at the man's throat couldn't compare to the pure color of the soft feathers. Taking in everything about the brunet, the commander instantly decided that Leonhart was more attractive with blood adding color to his body and wings. And when blue-gray eyes glanced up to meet his examining gaze, the blond was disappointed to find the stormy orbs lacking the cold fire he remembered.

Reaching the end of the deep blue carpet, the commander dropped to one knee before the Empress. "You summoned me, Your Highness?"

"Do not hide your face like that, my golden dragon."

Not receiving permission to stand, Seifer straightened to rest one arm on his bent knee and focused his gaze on the silver-haired woman who was still fondling the small breast of her slave. The cat's moans were the only sounds which broke the silence of the room as the sorceress glanced over the man before her.

In time, lips colored dark red curled into a small smile. "You clean up nicely, Commander. Though I am not certain I like that scar. Could the healers not remove it?"

Seifer resisted the urge to touch the scar he had received from the winged man. "I didn't visit the healers."

A pale eyebrow arched at the statement, the Empress then smiling wider. "Yes, you would be that type of man. No matter. I can grow accustomed to that look."

Teeth clenched, the commander hid his feeling of disgust from his features and silently hoped that the sorceress still believed him more important on the battlefield instead of on her bed.

A sudden, strained groan came from the slave, making the Empress glanced down fondly at the young woman. "Very well, kitten. You may touch yourself." As the raven-haired woman placed her hand at her cunt and sighed, the sorceress looked over at the silent man. "You as well, my dove. I know you have been waiting all morning."

With widened green eyes, Seifer watched as the dark-haired man briefly closed his eyes before lowering his bent leg to reveal a highly erect penis. Sitting back on his heels, the winged man ran a single hand down his flat stomach before gently sliding his hand around the hardened member. With half-lidded eyes and a partly opened mouth, he began to lightly stroke his reddened head with his thumb. White wings then slowly unfolded such that they hung relaxed at his sides, and soon began to shake with the increased breaths of the brunet.

Light laughter snapped Seifer's attention back to the Empress, the attractive woman appearing highly pleased given her broad smile. "I suppose it is unnecessary to ask you which of my pets you prefer."

His heartbeats rapid, the commander whispered a quiet, "Why?"

"Why what, my golden dragon? Why are you here, perhaps?" The silver-haired woman stood up gracefully to the vocal disappointment of the slave who moved to better pleasure herself. With intentional slowness, the Empress stepped down the several stairs before her throne. "Fear not, I merely wish to watch you participate in the only beautiful act that humans are capable of performing." Reaching the kneeling man, she motioned for him to rise before she placed a hand at his chest. "You can refuse this request, but I would advise against that option. It would be more... profitable for you to forget your pride for one night."

Green eyes narrowed slightly in thought, knowing that it was dangerous to hesitate before the sorceress, but he was reluctant to decide too quickly. While the threat of death was clear within the electric eyes, Seifer wasn't certain if sacrificing his dignity would be any better than a swift execution. But in the end, living sounded a lot more enjoyable to the young commander.

"Anything you desire, Your Highness."

With a condescending smile, she replied, "Of course, my dragon." Turning sharply such that her pale lavender robes flowed, the Empress strode up the small set of stairs and continued past her throne. "Come, my pets. I wish to enjoy this night to the fullest."

Seifer didn't move as the two slaves straightened with some annoyance given their aroused states. They stepped through the hidden doorway the sorceress had opened behind her throne, and still the blond waited in a relaxed but confident stance. Eventually the silver-haired woman glanced back at him, and after a moment of impatient glaring, her dark lips spread into an amused smile.

"If you would follow me, Commander Almasy," she said sweetly, as if Seifer's attempt to separate himself from her collection of 'pets' meant nothing. The blond's answering smirk before following the woman showed his belief that it meant enough.

The corridor was dark and unimpressive with nothing decorating the metal walls. The opening of a door further ahead helped Seifer to relax with the additional light. The Empress paused at the doorway to caress her white fingernails along the lovely face of the young woman. Seeing that face directly for the first time, the commander was struck by the identity of the cat - Rinoa Heartilly, the daughter of the deceased General Caraway. Seifer had met the clinging woman a few times before, but she had obviously changed in the past year under the Empress' control. The blond felt a flash of pity for the enslaved woman, but that quickly passed when he remembered her condescending comments about soldiers.

With a gentle touch, the Empress guided the dark-haired woman inside of the room, leaving Seifer a moment to look at the winged man who was holding the door open. Briefly their eyes met, and the commander straightened at the revealed flare of cold flame within the thus far stony eyes. Seifer smirked interestedly at the man before nodding once. He received a quiet huff in return as Leonhart stared inside the room in a silent warning that the Empress didn't enjoy waiting.

The commander stepped slowly through the doorway to examine the well-lit room. Everything from the rugs to the bed coverings to the sparse decorations lacked in color, but compared to the rest of the palace he had seen, the room was fairly comfortable. At the sound of the closed door, Seifer suppressed the immediate urge to escape and forced his body to relax. His attention then shifted as the Empress walked to an ebony desk and retrieved something from a small drawer.

The sorceress turned with a silver box in her hand and motioned for the large man to approach. When Seifer stepped up to the woman, she held out the opened case to reveal the collection of white tablets inside. Glancing up into the golden eyes, the commander realized that he had no choice in the matter and he reluctantly selected one of the pills. Placing it on his tongue, Seifer was surprised when it dissolved rapidly, too fast for him to find the opportunity to spit it out.

After closing the silver box, the Empress smiled as she ran her lengthy nails along his cheek. "Enjoy yourself, my dragon. Forget that I'm even here."

Already his peripheral vision was starting to blur as his skin itched at the feel of clothing constricting his body. Seifer inhaled sharply when a hand gripped his upper arm and forced him to turn around. Staring down into the winged man's unreadable gaze, the commander was entranced by the eyes colored a pale blue with a haze of gray surrounding the black pupils. Long fingers were then at his uniform, carefully undoing every button of the formal jacket with a maddening slowness. Seifer could only stare as the brunet finished his task with the jacket and undershirt, and when the clothing was pushed back over his shoulders, the touch of cool hands along bare skin made the blond moan quietly.

The hypnotizing stormy eyes glanced up briefly at the sound, but Leonhart's expression remained neutral as he gracefully lowered to his knees. Seifer could feel the tugs at his belt and pants, but his gaze had shifted to the tips of the white wings. The collection of downy feathers called to him and he reached out to touch the bend of the wing, which he absently remembered being once broken. The wing flinched away from his hand at first, but then relaxed to allow Seifer an examining caress of the warm softness.

Abruptly there was coldness as his pants were lowered with a hard, downward pull. Before Seifer had it in him to complain, warm wetness was at his penis in the form of light licking. The commander quickly released the wing in his hold for fear of damaging it, his hand easily finding a firmer resting place as he buried his fingers into thick hair. Leonhart didn't seem bothered by the increasing pressure of that hand, the winged man efficiently teasing the rapidly hardening member. When he began to nibble at the painfully sensitized head of his erection, Seifer finally broke down with quiet curse.

For a brief moment, that seemed the wrong thing to do as the warmth completely left his needy arousal, but when Leonhart stood up once more to meet his gaze with stormy blue, the commander forgot his annoyance at the man. Dark lashes lowered coyly before the brunet stepped back and pulled at the larger man to follow him. After almost tripping from the pants still encircling his ankles, Seifer managed to kick off the interfering piece of clothing before following the winged man.

He was slipping. Seifer could feel every restraint leaving him and there was no way for him to grasp onto the remains of his composure as he was pushed back onto the mattress and the smaller man crawled on top of him. Their eyes were locked as Leonhart slowly leaned back and shifted to rub his ass against the stiff member. Biting back a moan, Seifer placed his hands at the man's waist to caress the soft skin with the excuse of steadying the brunet. But that teasing pleasure didn't last long as the winged man paused before reaching back for the engorged penis. Green eyes widened when Leonhart began to impale himself onto the hardened member. The sudden heat was tight and somehow slick, perhaps from earlier preparation, but Seifer couldn't focus on that. His senses were overloaded by the feel of growing pressure, by the quiet noises of the brunet, and by the vague breezes caused by shaking wings.

With Seifer still steadying him, Leonhart placed one hand on the tense stomach for support and reached down with his free hand to fist his own erection. It was too much to witness, to have the angelic man enjoying such sinful pleasures. Moving with the brunet's motions, Seifer lifted the man up to remove his penis from the overwhelming heat. Sharply he shifted their positions to have the smaller man trapped below him, but Leonhart didn't appear bothered by the sudden change, only curious. Not caring about the pressure it would place on the delicate looking wings, the blond grabbed a lean leg and lifted it high onto his shoulder before he used his free hand to lead his manhood back into warmth.

Tingling heat coursing through his body, Seifer pressed hard into the lithe body that was still cool to the touch. With every deep thrust, Leonhart arched up slightly and his feathered wings fluttered either with pain or bliss, neither mattering to Seifer as he drove harder into the unresisting man. Even the burst of warmth sliding down his stomach didn't distract him from his desperate need for more heat and more sensations caused by the smaller man. Each thrust made the goal of release feel even more distant and impossible, the frustration of pressure causing a single tear to escape his eyes. Without warning, a cold hand was at his cheek as Leonhart brushed aside the wet trail. One glance into the exhausted pale blue eyes was the final assault Seifer could handle as he arched back with a strained groan. With two final sporadic thrusts, he milked his release into the tight hole before he leaned limply over the smaller man.

After a moment of deep breaths, Seifer glanced up at the tired gaze and was struck by sudden clarity of mind. He had practically raped the man beneath him, a fellow soldier who had gained legendary status on both sides of the war. And when there was movement in his peripheral vision, Seifer remembered the audience he had during the whole event. But his attention was once again entrapped by the brunet when Leonhart glanced up with a thoughtful gaze and then shook his head in a bare motion. Though uncertain about the message, Seifer held back vocalizing his renewed disgust. Instead, he placed his energy into removing himself from the tight heat before he rolled onto his back next to the prone man. Looking up from his position, the commander was surprised by the sight of the Empress standing at the mattress edge.

"Beautiful," she whispered before lightly brushing her fingers over the sweaty forehead. "And now, you sleep. Until we meet in the morning, my golden dragon..."

Seifer tried to fight the drowsiness that assaulted him with the sorceress' touch, but it was hopeless as his eyelids closed against his will and his body slumped into sleep.

~ > < ~

There was heavy warmth upon waking, the odd softness on bare skin somehow coaxing Seifer to remain asleep. Though young, he was a battle-hardened man who typically woke immediately into sharp awareness for fear of being caught off guard, but at that moment, he only wanted to rest and savor the touch of gentle warmth. And so, when he brushed his hand along the soft weight, it took his hazy mind several seconds to identify the feathers he was caressing.

Memories of the night previous rushed back to him, and Seifer knocked aside the large wing as he sat up sharply. Forgotten muscles were stiff as he attempted to slide off the mattress, but the arm around his waist tightened its hold and held the blond in place. Irrational panic flooded through the commander as he turned to face the person interfering with his escape. But once meeting calm blue-gray eyes, the terror and tension left the larger man as he stared down at Leonhart.

To Seifer's surprise, the winged man spoke in a quiet voice. "Don't show fear. Not here."

When the commander didn't offer a comment in return to the warning, the dark-haired man broke their eye contact as he removed his arm from the blond's waist and casually rolled over to the other side of the mattress where he stood up from the bed.

"So... I'm alive," Seifer mumbled why eyeing the graceful lines of the winged man's back and lower. Something bothered him about the lightly tanned skin, but his distracted mind wasn't helping him to figure that out.

Turning slowly, Leonhart ran two fingers along the white ribbon-like material encircling his throat. "It prevents me from intentionally hurting anyone."

"Otherwise I probably would have woken up in Hell, yes?"

The dark-haired man shrugged, the resulting shift of his large wings exaggerating the slight movement. "I have no reason to kill you... yet."

Seifer laughed breathily. "Except for ramming my ship into you, and of course that little fight..." Green eyes widened as he viewed the nude before him and found no markings of a blade or otherwise on the skin. Noticing this, the commander scoffed with irritation. "You aren't really Leonhart, are you? Shit, I can't believe I trusted Nida like that. Of course the Empress wouldn't let a key rebel leader live, and certainly not within reach of her..." he said while standing up from the bed.

"What are you rambling about?" the winged man asked with annoyance.

"**You!**" the commander bit out while turning sharply at the man. "You are no warrior. Certainly nothing like the man Leonhart should be."

The brunet smiled vaguely with a shake of his head. "You haven't a clue what this is about, do you?"

Confused by the somber tone of the man, Seifer straightened. "I don't like being insulted by a pet."

Wings extending outward, the dark-haired man smirked at the blond. "Yes, I'm a pet. A worthless whore who can't go a day without touching himself because of that woman. My rank, my scars, and my very _honor_ have been stripped from me. At least I have my name, so don't you fucking tell me that I'm not Squall Leonhart."

Startled by the intensity of the voice which never raised above its typical quiet tone, Seifer stared at the man while he tried to process the given information. "Why... tell me this?"

Leonhart approached with silent steps until he stood barely a foot away from the taller man. "Because, _Commander_, if you aren't careful, if you show your fear to the sorceress, you'll wake up with golden scales covering that body of yours."

Green eyes narrowed with suspicion. "And why would that concern a man like you?"

After a moment of hesitation, the man shrugged.

While he studied the neutral expression of the brunet, several things began to click in place for Seifer. The lack of scars on the man's body should have been obvious to him after the sorceress' comment about disliking the scar on his own face. But foremost in his thoughts was the cunning of the Empress to turn the rebel's most respected leader into someone shameful and weak. Torture or execution would have only made the man a martyr for their cause, and perhaps would have made them stronger in spirit. As it was, the rebels lost their most skilled leader, and with his absence, they lost some of their hope.

But overall, that didn't matter much to Seifer as he reached out and stroked two fingers along smooth skin between the man's eyes. "It's a shame. You would've looked better with that scar."

Leonhart knocked the hand aside. "Don't."

"What, sick of my touch already?" Seifer asked, feeling his humor returned with the knowledge that the winged man was in fact Squall Leonhart, a man worthy of his attention.

Blue-gray eyes burned cold fire before he turned his back to the blond. "Your mission orders are on the desk. You are to leave immediately."

"A-aw, no quick fuck goodbye?"

The large wings stiffened at the comment and the feathers bristled with annoyance. "If you desire it..."

Seifer straightened at the reply. "Are you serious?"

"... ..."

The commander nearly laughed at his own stupidity, for a moment forgetting that he was talking to the slave and not the warrior hidden beneath that facade. He stepped up to the brunet and placed a hand at a tense shoulder. As Seifer pressed against the taut body, he ran his hand down cool skin until he was loosely holding the winged man.

"You are a beautiful creature, and a very nice fuck from what I can remember. Though, the drugs make it kind of hazy, y'know." Grabbing an ass check with his free hand, he said, "I should probably take you while I still have a clear mind."

"... ..."

Lips pressed against the ear partly hidden by dark hair, Seifer said, "But I don't want you like this."

Leonhart scoffed. "What, need some motivation from me?"

Chuckling, the commander replied, "No. I want to fight you again when you're nice and healthy. After I've beaten you bloody and knocked you to the ground, _then_ we can talk about how hard I need to fuck you."

Some of the tension left the lithe body. "You are a strange man."

Releasing his hold on the brunet, Seifer smiled as if being complemented by the statement. "Like you can talk. You must be insane to maintain this role of yours when I know what you really are. Good luck finding another chance to escape," he said while putting on his wrinkled pants. "It should be fun to hunt down your ass again."

Leonhart didn't reply as he watched the blond haphazardly dress himself in the clothes that had been left on the floor overnight.

After managing a few buttons of his undershirt and slipping on his formal jacket, Seifer leaned over to the ebony desk to grab the large envelope sitting there. "Well, it's been fun, Leonhart, and don't be offended when I say that I hope to never do this again." Not waiting for the reply which he wasn't expecting anyway, the commander moved to the door of black wood.

"Almasy..."

Surprised at the call of his name, Seifer turned to face the winged man who seemed reluctant to meet his gaze, but that sign of shyness quickly vanished as softened blue eyes met sharp green.

"Thank you for the jacket."

The commander was struck dumb by the simple expression of gratitude, and his mind blanked about the best cynical response to offer. With nothing better to say, he mumbled, "Yeah... Don't mention it," before he opened the door and promptly exited the room of black and white. Seifer then leaned against the closed door and ran a hand through his short blond hair as he silently yelled at himself to not feel something for the attractive rebel turned slave. It was a hopeless situation that couldn't go anywhere and _shouldn't_ go anywhere... and yet, the twinge in his heart remained as he thought about the eyes of cold fire.

~ > < ~

Staring out the darken window of his quarters, Seifer absently played with the small, narrow card in his hand. The sky was unfortunately obscured by tall evergreen trees, but the attempt of camouflage was more important than star gazing. When peaceful times would finally arrive, Seifer had already promised himself hours upon hours of observing the nighttime sky untouched by city lights.

The hiss of a door opening and then closing didn't disturb the commander greatly, the blond knowing of only one person who had the code to enter his rooms. But then that person had the audacity to flip on the lights.

"Shit, Nida. Warn me before you try to blind me."

With a laughing voice, the navigator said, "It's your fault for sitting in the dark. Anyway, you're the one who wanted these maps ASAP."

Seifer turned in his seat and motioned for the dark-eyed man to place the large papers on the table. Sharp green eyes immediately glanced over the lines and numbers until he found the region he was most interested in. Studying those numbers in greater detail, he easily formed a mental image of the mountainous terrain they were about to cross over. It would be tricky, but steering through the cliffs while avoiding detection didn't seem impossible.

"You know, I've seen you flashing that thing for the past month. What's it for?"

Seifer blinked, and then realized that he was tracing lines with the golden card in his hand. "Oh, this? Just an access card."

"An access card? To what? Everything on the ship is protected by codes and fingerprints," Nida said while taking a seat at the table. He then rested his chin on his hands with the look of a child waiting for story time.

"Nosy bastard," the commander muttered before leaning back in his chair. He then looked at his friend to judge how much the man could be told. "You know that I've been visiting the Imperial Palace more frequently since last winter."

The dark-haired man nodded with a frown. "Everyone has noticed. Personally, I wouldn't mind avoiding that place a little more. Y'know, like we used to."

Seifer smiled weakly. "While that would be the smartest thing to do, I can't stop going there."

"Why not? You managed before."

Fingering the golden card in hand, the blond said, "I've become addicted..."

After waiting for a clearer reply but not receiving one, Nida sighed. "Seifer, we've been friends since the second day we were rooming in the barracks. Don't hold back on me now."

"... Do you remember Leonhart?"

Brown eyes widened. "Leonhart? The 'Frozen Lion'?"

Smiling in thought, Seifer said, "It's funny. I'm certain he was named that for his personality, but he really is cool to the touch. His feet are killer whenever I try to catch up on sleep. Just like fucking ice cubes."

"Whoa, take a few steps back. Are you implying that you... that you are...?"

The blond snickered at the man's stuttering. "I dare you to think of some platonic reason for me to sleep in the same bed as Leonhart."

"But Seifer," Nida started with earnest, "he's a prisoner of the Empress. Hell, probably her favorite pet with the way she flaunts him."

"Trust me, I know that. And I think I would be number two if she didn't need me out here." Glancing down at the card, Seifer smiled bitterly at the gold coloring, either a threat or a sick joke by the sorceress. "Sadly, some nights I'm not too certain that I would mind that fate if I could spend it with Squall."

"You... you can't be serious. Since he has fallen under the Empress' control--"

"He's not the whore he seems," Seifer interrupted sharply. "He's just biding his time, waiting for the right moment to escape. The patient bastard has somehow separated his physical situation apart from his mind and pride. I can't tell if the Empress knows that or even cares, but he's a smart one."

"... Are... you thinking of helping him? To escape, that is?" Nida asked cautiously.

The commander laughed. "Fuck no. I know where the power is in this war, and I'm not going to fight for the losing side. We both know that this will be over soon enough. Anyway, I still get to fuck the bastard, so what reason is there to help him escape? Nah, I'd have more fun watching him do it himself, and then I'll get the chance to capture him and drag him back to his cage."

With a small smile, the brunet shook his head. "You always did enjoy a good hunt. Well, glad to know you haven't changed sides without me."

"Never, my talented navigator. Remember, you're mine until end of time."

Chuckling, Nida said, "The next time you want to depress me, please, just tell me that my dog died or something."

"You don't own a dog."

The man rolled his eyes. "I think you missed the point."

"No, you just don't know how to insult properly. If I were you--"

"Just shut up and tell me where we're flying tonight," Nida said to interrupt the blond, and then tacked on an insincere, "Commander, sir."

"Prick," Seifer replied with a fond smile and then leaned over the map. "Now, we want to be at these coordinates by sunrise..."

~ > < ~

After swishing the spit in his mouth, Seifer spat out the redden mixture of blood and saliva. Sick of the taste of blood and _really_ sick of kneeling on the cement ground, he pulled at the chains binding his wrists, more out of frustration than with the hope of escape. Once that bit of angered energy had been spent, Seifer slumped forward to stare at his ruined clothes and the unimpressive floor. For the hundredth time, the commander tried to reason out his mistakes which may have led to the resulting imprisonment.

Perhaps it was his distracted mindset with his plans to visit the palace after the mission. Certainly Nida had his fun the night before the surprise attack, teasing Seifer about his 'golden ticket' to the love of his life. While the commander knew there was no love between him and Leonhart, there was still an intense attraction on his part. And though he doubted anyone could assume the feelings of the 'Frozen Lion', Seifer figured the man felt nothing for him. It was all an act, a role to play until the moment was right. Still, the blond couldn't get rid of the persistent feelings he had for the lovely creature, impure feelings that were further tainted by the continued presence of the Empress and her random pets.

The commander breathed a laugh at his wandering thoughts, knowing that he would never let a stupid fling affect his performance on the battlefield. And so, while it hurt Seifer to consider it, he forced himself to reevaluate his decisions during the simple but important scouting mission. But no matter how many times he thought about the events which led to the crash landing of his precious Hyperion, something didn't add up. They should have detected the weapons before they were attacked, but instead it had come as a complete surprise.

The faded echo of footsteps brought an end to Seifer's thoughts, but he didn't straighten from his limp pose as more than one person approached the occupied cells. Eventually shadows were cast into his cell as the people stopped at the barred entrance.

"Is he awake?" one voice asked with a touch of true concern.

"If he's not, he will be soon," stated the guard Seifer had already become acquainted with during his brief imprisonment.

"Now, now, there's no need for violence at this time. Just open the door, if you wouldn't mind. I seem to have forgotten my key on the ship."

With a quiet grumble at his fun being ruined, the guard placed his card in the lock mechanism and punched in a code. There was a pause before the barred door was opened noiselessly by hand.

"Thank you for your help. You can leave now."

Though the guard hesitated, he eventually left with heavy steps down the corridor of cells, making it a simple case to judge when the man had returned to his station.

After a few steps into the cell, the unknown man spoke softly. "If you are awake, Mr Almasy, this would move along faster."

Finding no reason to continue his act, Seifer smirked with feigned amusement before glancing up at the intruding man. Once meeting with dark green eyes, the commander barely maintained his confident expression as he easily identified the rebel leader - Laguna Loire. Their High General in name, but basically a king to his followers.

"Good evening, Mr Almasy. Are you faring well considering the situation?"

"Fucking wonderful. And you?" the commander asked mockingly.

The older man of long hair and a youthful appearance smiled fondly at the reply. "Why, I'm doing lovely. Thank you for asking."

Seifer stared up at the man, wondering if he was truly that oblivious to sarcasm.

"Unfortunately we haven't time for much chit-chat, though I'm certain you would be an interesting man to speak with." Squatting down to better meet the blond's gaze, Loire asked quietly, "Is it true that you have had contact with my son?"

After a moment of confusion, green eyes widened with realization. "You can't be Leonhart's father."

"But of course I am. I was present for his birth, oh, and of course for the... you know, the conception before that. It's hard to believe that twenty years have already past since he took his first breath."

Seifer blinked, and then repeated, "You can't be Leonhart's father."

Loire smiled. "Believe what you may, but I have another question for you - is it also true that you hold some... feelings for Squall?"

The commander stared at the long-haired man after the entirely unexpected question. While many knew about his frequent excursions to the Imperial Palace, very few people also knew about his meetings with Leonhart. And of that group, no one would dare assume that it involved something more than a good fuck. But one man did know the truth... Thoughts and memories flew through Seifer's head as pieces of an unrealized puzzle feel into place. Nida... the skilled navigator who had more than a few 'bad days' when he couldn't follow certain enemy airships; the attentive friend who always had questions to ask about specific missions, the Imperial Palace, and his relationship with the former rebel leader; and the curious man who left Hyperion for no good reason and witnessed Leonhart's capture.

"Mr Almasy...?"

Green eyes narrowed as his attention focused on the rebel king. "I like him where he is. Don't expect any help from me."

Hurt flashed through the older man's eyes before he forced a smile. "Yes, I figured as much, but it's easier on the heart to hope for the best. Would you at least consider delivering a message for me?"

Smiling at the man's stupidity, Seifer rattled the chains binding his arms. "I'm not going anywhere currently. And even if you do release me, don't you think the Empress would be more than a touch suspicious that I escaped when no one else could?"

"Oh, it won't be that simple for you, son. But if you do make it back to safety, I would appreciate you telling Squall that I love him and that I'll always be waiting for his return."

The commander sneered at the man. "Why don't you save him yourself?"

"He doesn't like it when people die for him," Loire stated simply before removing a small card from his rolled shirt sleeve. "This will be worthless in two days, so don't get any ideas. And just to warn you, this is the only help that I can offer you." He held out the card, motioning the blond to open his mouth. Reluctantly, Seifer followed the silent order and resisted the temptation to bite the man's fingers. "The code is 0823. Good luck to you, young man."

And after that final comment, the commander was left alone in his cell to fumble with the card in his mouth. It took some time to get it at the right angle such that he could just barely maneuver the keycard into the cuff around his right hand and unlock the restraint. Smirking, Seifer decided that the time it was taking him to get free, Loire would easily be able to escape the base before he could consider assassinating the heart of the rebel force. But even if given that chance, the blond commander wasn't the stupidly heroic type. Unless he was certain that his back was covered, Seifer didn't have the urge place himself into highly dangerous situations.

After freeing the one hand, removing the rest of his bindings was a simple task. He then moved cautiously to the barred door of his cell, and once certain that no guards were watching, he reached through the bars to swipe the card through the locking mechanism and blindly attempted to punch in the code. It took three more tries before he got it correct, and by that time, the familiar noise of approaching footsteps sounded in the lengthy corridor.

Seifer pulled back into his cell and waited on the side that would be unseen by the guards until they were practically in front of the door. As he sat there, the commander smiled faintly, knowing the setback of those who depended too much on technology - it makes them relaxed. It was how Leonhart originally escaped his prison, and Seifer doubted that the rebels were any better. And so, when the guard passed by without even glancing into the cell, the commander wasn't surprised. Though the man trapped in the guard's hold did interest the blond.

Knowing the silence of the door mechanisms, Seifer carefully opened it enough to allow him passage and he easily stalked the unsuspecting guard and prisoner. There was no warning for the larger of the two men as the commander launched forward and wrapped a muscular arm around the guard's neck. Before the man could make a sound, Seifer removed the guard's knife, and after an unneeded twirl of the weapon, the blond stabbed the man in the chest.

As he waited for the guard to die in his hold, Seifer glared at the dark-haired man who stared speechlessly at the twitching body. The young man then looked up with deep brown eyes and smiled with a relieved air.

"Don't scare me like that again, Seifer."

Coldness filled the commander at the familiar tone.

"Think you could get these cuffs off, too?" When no action or response came from the blond, Nida looked deeper into the hardened green eyes and his smile weakened into something pained. "Fucking Loire. He messed up, didn't he?"

"How long?" Seifer asked, his voice oddly rough.

"Before I knew you. Just the normal sob story of the Empress killing off my family for shits and giggles. It kinda pissed me off."

The blond stared at the man before him, trying to understand who he truly was.

"Come to our side," Nida pleaded in a hushed voice. "We could really use you."

Breathing a laugh, Seifer shook his head as he jerked the knife from the guard's chest and let the corpse slump quietly to the ground. "The rebels have no power. Sorry, but it's not my thing to die for nothing."

"What about Leonhart?"

The blond smirked. "He isn't going anywhere."

With a resigned sigh, Nida nodded. "Then it was nice knowing you, Commander. And don't let the Empress get her claws too deep into you. It would be shameful if she destroyed two skilled men for her own pleasure."

Twisting the knife in his hold, Seifer slashed the blade in a wide arc to cut shallowly into the man's abdomen, and then he redirected the weapon upward such that it sliced through the skin of the brunet's chest in an angled cut. Before Nida could drop to his knees, the commander reached out with his free hand and grasped tightly onto dark hair to keep the man standing as he pulled him in close.

Whispering directly into his ear, Seifer said, "If you don't bleed to death, you'll survive just fine. But I suggest playing dead until we're out of here."

A shaky hand reached out and squeezed the blond's arm. "See you... when you've changed sides..."

Scoffing, the commander released his grip and carelessly let Nida drop to the ground. Not sparing another glance at the fallen friend, Seifer knelt next to the guard to quickly strip the body of all weapons and keys. He then strode down the corridor to free his men from their cells. Keeping the potential master key for himself, the commander handed the other set of keys to a man he trusted to remain calm and help him free everyone. Seifer was disappointed to discover that only eighteen of the sixty men under his command were located in the prison, and he silently hoped that the others were simply injured and not lost from the crash.

"Sir, is that--"

Seifer interrupted the solder's expected question. "Forget that spy. I already handled him. Right now, we need to get the fuck out of here." After checking his stolen gun for bullets, the commander switched off the safety and then smiled smugly at his men. "Alright, kiddies, I want to be home for dinner, so let's get moving."

{Continued}


	2. Chapter 2

Sitting on the padded bench in front of a large mirror, Squall somberly worked on a set of damaged feathers. It was a strange sense of pride that made him care for the unnatural wings which he both loathed and admired. Aside from the spelled choker around his throat, the white feathers were the sign of his downfall from a respected soldier to a worthless sex slave, and yet, the same wings which symbolized his enslavement had also given him the ultimate freedom of flight. While he had relied on the sorceress' perfectionist nature during his escape, it still came as a surprise that flying was far from impossible. It was almost frightening the height he could maintain above the ground.

And then a fucking airship had to ram into him.

With a shadow of a smile, Squall decided that he may have deserved the rough treatment. Before that incident, Almasy had first ordered him to land, which the winged man did after some hesitation. Standing naked in fairly deep snow, he had calmly waited for the large airship to settle on the frozen ground, and once the ramp dropped, it was his signal to jump off the chosen cliff site and take flight once more. In hindsight, it was a foolish to think that he could escape the ship which held the far greater size and speed, especially when he was surviving on little sleep and no food after days of traveling, but there was no other choice aside from surrender, and that was out of the question. That, and he never expected the reckless commander to collide into him in retaliation for the feint.

Moving lower along the lengthy feathers, Squall let his thoughts drift to the image of the blond officer. To his annoyance, he couldn't deny that he felt a deep attraction for the tall, muscular man who typically smirked at the world around him, his bright green eyes holding a gleam of cynical humor. And while Squall knew that it was incredibly stupid of himself, he was increasingly enjoying the company of the loud and seductive man. Almasy was heat personified in both touch and emotions, and it livened a part of Squall which he believed dead after years of war followed by well over a year of shameful slavery.

Sighing, Squall released the wing in his hold and looked to the mirror, silently ordering himself that he couldn't be this weak. He knew about Almasy's reputation before meeting the commander, and the past months proved to him that the man wouldn't turn to the side of the rebels. While Almasy talked of staying on the winning side, to Squall it sounded like a hollow excuse by a person who chose his battles and stuck with that decision until the gruesome end. In the simplest terms, Almasy was a stubborn asshole who would never change, and oddly, Squall could respect him for that.

A sharp series of knocks made the winged man straighten and stare at the doorway, his confusion shown by narrowed eyes. No one ever knocked, not even the servants who changed the sheets and the like. Certainly never Ultimecia, the sorceress enjoying the drama of surprise. A frown then joined his expression as Squall realized how fucked up he was to be baffled by something as ordinary as a knock.

Schooling his expression, Squall walked over to the door which was always unlocked from the inside, it being a cruel joke of the sorceress as it was the collar around his throat which kept him from passing over the threshold and not the solid door. Of course, she hadn't warned the winged man of that fact until he had attempted to leave the unlocked room without her permission. The resulting shock of magic had left his body paralyzed for over an hour. Squall didn't need another lesson after the one.

Opening the door, the winged man glanced over his apparent guest. "You're a mess."

Deep laughter ended sharply with an inhaled breath as Almasy pressed a hand against his side. "And here I thought you'd have something sweeter to say after missing me for a whole month."

Refraining from stating the lie that he hadn't missed the blond, Squall motioned the man inside. "Take a shower and then I'll look you over."

Bright green eyes shone at the order. "Wanna join me?"

The brunet frowned vaguely, but replied, "If you wish it."

Smirking, Almasy patted a grimy hand against his cheek. "Nah, go ahead and keep your feathers dry. You'll make the bed wet, otherwise."

The blond officer then made his way to the bathroom, unsuccessfully hiding his limp from the observant rebel. Squall silently watched the hurting man as he mentally listed the injuries Almasy most likely held. The winged man then closed the dark door before following the large man into the bathroom to retrieve the medical kit there. Not bothering to watch the blond strip out of ruined clothes, Squall moved back to the bedroom and set out various bandages and ointments on the large bed.

It wasn't the first time the rebel leader had attended to the injuries of the stubborn blond, the young man having some issue against healers, but Squall had never seen the man so battered. Staring at a roll of bandages in his hand, he wondered why he bothered caring for the blond commander. He was tempted to say that it was his duty and nothing more, but Squall knew that there was more to it. Perhaps it was respect between rivals, perhaps it was a sign of appreciation for the blond who rarely treated him like the slave he was... Despite the hours he had thought it over on previous days, Squall had yet to come to a conclusive decision.

In time, Almasy exited the bathroom, the blond looking far better without the dirt and dried blood covering his golden-brown skin. Not bothering with a robe, the large man only had a towel wrapped around his shoulders as he dried his short hair with rough movements. Smirking at the waiting brunet, he sat down on the edge of the mattress and leaned back on his hands.

Starting first on the scattered bullet wounds, Squall shook his head. "What foolishness were you up to this time?"

Almasy scoffed. "Don't blame me. I'd be fine and healthy if you stupid rebels wouldn't shoot at me. At least they have shitty aim." He then brushed a hand against his heavily bruised side. "I guess falling down a fucking cliff didn't help much."

The winged man said nothing in reply as he worked on the blond's front side, careful to not aggravate the deep bruises. Aside from the few bullet wounds, there wasn't much to be done with the numerous shallow scratches, and so Squall moved onto the mattress to kneel behind Almasy and work on his back. Out of range of the sharp green eyes, the winged man breathed deeply as he could no longer resist his reaction to thoroughly touching the naked body before him. Squall silently cursed the sorceress as he tried to focus on the deeper wounds.

"Say, Leonhart... What do you guys do with injured prisoners?"

"Treat them as best we can."

"Why?" the blond commander asked, as if not believing the answer.

"Our war is against Ultimecia, not the soldiers she controls." Placing an adhesive patch on an exit wound, Squall then asked, "What happened?"

After moment of hesitation, Almasy said, "My ship crashed and I wanted to know what would happen to the men left behind."

"Those who could be rescued should be safe by now."

The muscular body slumped at the assurance, and Almasy turned to face the brunet. Green eyes were warm with obvious relief, the sight of which partly surprising to Squall after hearing many rants about the lazy and worthless men under the blond's command. Almasy then leaned in close, promptly drawing the brunet into a deep, heartfelt kiss which made his whole body shiver from unanticipated pleasure.

"Thank you," Almasy whispered into parted lips as he broke the kiss.

At first unable to open his eyes as he tried to deal with the sudden burst of pleasure, Squall heard the man chuckle lightly before he saw the lecherous smirk of the blond.

"Stand up," the Imperial officer ordered as he removed the towel from his shoulders.

The winged man followed the command given in a rough voice and stood exposed before the other man. While shame threatened to overwhelm him, Squall pushed aside his pride and morals as he allowed the onetime unknown part of him take control of his awareness. His arousal twitched with sudden eagerness as he leaned in closer to the large man.

Almasy smirked, perhaps seeing the change in the man's attitude before him. Unceremoniously, he draped the coolly damp towel over the hardened member and cupped a hand against the erection. Wrapping his other arm around the lean waist, Almasy pulled the brunet closer, driving a quiet whimper from the aroused man.

"Go ahead."

With a shaky exhaled breath, Squall placed his hands on broad shoulders for support before he rocked forward into the loose hold. While the combination of the towel and the strong hand provided interesting friction, it was proving difficult to find satisfaction when the hand wouldn't wrap around the needy organ. And after a short while, he was beginning to wonder if he would get a friction burn in that way.

"Harder, angel."

Stormy eyes snapped open at the order and he met the heated green eyes of the blond. A flash of humiliation burned through the winged man, but Squall was too far to simply stop. Instead he leaned forward to rest his forehead against a bare shoulder and his hands slid back to find a firmer purchase on the golden-brown skin. With the better support, he increased his speed and force against the large hand. By the time Squall was close to release, his breaths were harsh with the occasional whine and his eyes began to water from the frustration of struggling to obtain that moment of satisfaction.

Suddenly the cloth covered hand closed tightly around the hardened member. "Harder," Almasy whispered directly into an ear before biting at the lobe.

The touch of pain was the final push the winged man needed as he tensed and came into the warmth of the towel. Exhaustion then overwhelmed Squall as he slumped against the blond. As he tried to slow his racing heartbeats, the brunet stared downward as his penis was wiped clean with a rough touch. He then glanced at the bandaged body of the Imperial officer and stared briefly at the lack of arousal.

Shoving against the bare shoulders, Squall stumbled back a few steps before he steadied himself and glared at the blond. "What are you doing here, Almasy?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he replied with a smirk as the soiled towel was tossed at the brunet's feet.

The narrowed glare said plainly that it wasn't apparent what the man wanted from him.

The blond's confident expression faltered before he sighed. "I wanted to stay the night. Maybe talk."

"We don't talk. You fuck me, we sleep, you fuck me again, and then you leave. That's it."

The man's smirk returned with a softer edge as Almasy stood and approached the brunet. "Maybe when the Empress is here, yes, that's all there is for us. But when I have you to myself, you let me have the other side of you. The true side."

Refusing to retreat, Squall stood his ground as the larger man stepped up as close as possible and stared down at him with sharp green eyes. A heavy arm hung over a tense shoulder and fingers gently stroked the softer feathers closest to the taut back.

"Do you think I don't notice the difference between the man who tends to my wounds and the man who sucks my dick?"

Squall scoffed. "You're imagining things."

"Am I?" Almasy asked softy before pressing their lips together in a gentle kiss. His warm tongue skimmed the pale lips before slipping inside with unknown tenderness. Squall couldn't resist the sudden attraction between them as he pressed his body forward against the larger man and moaned quietly. Almasy broke the kiss and gazed victoriously into blue-gray eyes.

"Means nothing," Squall whispered.

"Don't lie, Leonhart. I know the difference between you and the slut I also adore."

Stormy eyes narrowed. "You don't give a shit about me."

"Why do you say that?" Almasy asked with a raised eyebrow. "Because I won't rescue you from here?"

"... ..."

"A-ah, but you don't see it from my side. This way, I always know where you are, eagerly awaiting my touch I should add. And with you imprisoned here, I know that a stray bullet isn't going to pierce through that thick skull of yours."

With stunned disbelief, Squall stared at the blond.

"I know you haven't a reason to trust me, but... the truth is that this might be the last time I'll be allowed to see you." Stepping back, the blond took a hold of a limp hand. "Let's lie down and talk. I'm hurting too much to take advantage of you."

Distracted in his thoughts, Squall numbly let the commander lead him to the bed. While the meaning of the last sentence could be applied to the man's battered body, the rebel could also hear something else implied, as if Almasy's spirit was hurting as well. No, he knew that was the case. And once realizing that, Squall couldn't decide what was worse - catching the disguised meaning or wanting to know what was bothering the blond.

In short time, Almasy laid stretched out on his back and Squall pressed up against the long body with a wing resting limply on top of the commander. A hand reached down to stroke the base of the wing, rough fingertips caressing the sensitive skin.

"Did you screw up that badly?"

Almasy laughed at the accusing tone. "Unfortunately, yes. I didn't wrap up the scouting mission, my poor Hyperion was totaled, and two-thirds of my men are either dead or severely injured. And that's not to mention that I was face-to-fucking-face with the rebel king, and I did shit."

Squall froze at the mentioning, not tensing, but not breathing either.

"By the way, your father is a prick."

With forced indifference, the brunet asked, "My father?"

"Don't give me that, Leonhart. He told me himself that you're his son. Pretty stupid of him to give the enemy information like that, especially when you've apparently gone to lengths to keep it out of common knowledge."

"... ..."

"Fine, don't admit it, but he had a message for you. He said that he loves you and he's waiting for you to get your ass out of here, which is a load of bullshit if you ask me. What kind of rebel king is he when he can't even save his own son from the Empress?"

Leaning up on his elbow, Squall looked at the man's face. "Why would you relay such a message?"

Green eyes stayed focused on the ceiling as he continued to absentmindedly stroke the base of the feathered wing. "Ultimecia isn't forgiving."

"Then why are you here?"

The blond breathed deeply. "A foolish attempt to take all the blame and spare the lives of my men. They've been through enough."

Stormy eyes stared at the handsome face for a moment longer before returning to his previous position. "Maybe... Loire understands what his son wants."

Almasy chuckled quietly. "You're a horrible liar, angel. And it's still a pathetic excuse."

The winged man didn't counter the statement, his mind still reeling from the idea that he may never see the blond again after the coming morning. While uncertain, Squall figured it must have been at least eight months since the Imperial officer had recaptured him. His meetings with Almasy were sporadic during those months, and yet the brunet felt more comfortable with the commander than any other person he had been forced to be with. Perhaps it was their common background in war, or maybe their shared sense of honor... But Squall didn't let himself think about what could have been.

"Do you know Nida?"

The brunet closed his eyes. "Should I?"

"Maybe. He's one of your spies."

"... ..."

Almasy sighed. "He's already safe in one of your bases, so you don't need to worry about that. And... hell, I'm fucking pissed at the bastard, but he's still someone I trust with my life. I've known him since we were fourteen and bunking together, but now... suddenly, I know shit about him. So if you know anything..."

Feigning ignorance, Squall tried to ignore the unheard desperate tone of the commander.

"Please, Leonhart. As a last request?"

Stormy eyes opened at the unexpected plead. "I don't know..." Squall paused between telling the lie or the truth before saying, "I don't know the details, but he came from a wealthy family who used to support Ultimecia. Without warning, she turned on them, and Nida somehow witnessed the death of his family. He was found sleeping in the burnt ruins of his home."

"Shit, I knew he was an orphan like me, but I never got it out of him how it happened."

Though hesitating about how much to tell, Squall continued to say, "He liked you. He requested several times that we should approach you, but I vetoed his appeals."

"O-oh? Afraid of me, were you?" Almasy asked with half-hearted humor.

"You're a power-hungry, reckless commander who doesn't fight for a purpose but for your own recognition and fortune."

The blond shifted his position, his green eyes felt by the winged man. "Well, damn, I'm impressed. How did you figure all of that out?"

"It's a recent analysis," Squall admitted. "Back then, I just didn't like the look of you."

Almasy laughed, then groaning as he pressed a hand against his bruised side. "Damn it, Leonhart, are you trying to kill me?"

The brunet didn't reply as he closed his eyes once more.

After a moment of silence, the man beneath him shifted before the lights to the room were turn off. The hand at his back moved to his shoulder and the commander pulled him in closer. "Thanks for humoring me."

Squall huffed, though he moved his leg to cross over one of the warmer legs and nudged his body against the larger man with the excuse of getting comfortable.

With a breathy laugh, Almasy said, "It's been nice, Leonhart. Real nice."

~ > < ~

Sitting on his feet in his usual position to the side of the throne, Squall stared down at the kneeling commander who kept his head bowed. Stony eyes showed none of the turmoil occurring within the mind of the brunet. His desire to remain apathetic about Almasy was clashing with his anger at the blond for taking the blame for everything that couldn't have been his fault. And then there was that twinge of pain in his chest, an emotion that Squall was happy to leave nameless.

"Is that everything?" Ultimecia asked from her throne as she idly petted a woman of brown hair and floppy rabbit ears.

Almasy tensed at the icy tone. "Yes, Your Highness. And I accept any punishment for my failures."

The silver-haired woman laughed with sudden humor. "Oh, my precious dragon, do not fear for your life. In these unstable times, such incidents are expected to happen." Directing her rabbit to the ground, Ultimecia stood gracefully and approached the kneeling man. "Despite the disappointment you have caused, I am relieved that you returned to me alive. Raise your head, golden one."

The blond commander followed the order, his eyes narrowing in thought as he attempted to determine the sorceress' mood behind her words.

Ultimecia trailed a bent finger along his stubble roughened cheek. "Yes, it would have been a shame to lose you," she said, dropping her hand to the man's shoulder. Without warning, a flash of white fire ignited from her hand and covered the man's body. Yelling a curse in surprise, Almasy launched up to his feet and stumbled away from the silver-haired woman.

While the magical flame quickly died down to nothing, Squall briefly closed his eyes as memories assaulted him of his same experience over a year previous. Though unwilling to witness the event, his stormy eyes reopened, the grayness shining with pity for the blond commander who stood removed of clothing.

Realizing that the fire never harmed his skin, Almasy looked at the sorceress and promptly knelt back down. "Your Highness, don't..."

Ultimecia hushed him as she raised a single hand. "This is not your punishment, my golden dragon. Think of it as another way... no, a _better_ way to serve me."

Not given the chance to speak, Almasy was surrounded by a flexible bubble of magic which gradually contracted to force the large man into a bent position despite his struggles otherwise. Green eyes bright with panic shifted to meet the winged man's cooler gaze. As with their first night together, Squall made certain to hold that eye contact as he vaguely shook his head in a subtle sign that the man couldn't show his fear. Never in front of the sorceress. Almasy visibly relaxed at the reminder, an odd smirk coming to his lips as he turned his attention back to Ultimecia. The reckless nature of the commander shone through as he calmly waved his finger at the sorceress in a rude gesture.

The silver-haired woman gasped with true offense, then sharply motioning her hand such that the sphere rose high to the ceiling. With concealed amusement, Squall watched the progress of the trapped man who hadn't received the customary kiss from the sorceress. To his limited knowledge, the winged man knew of only one other person who had been 'denied' that kiss - Squall himself when he had managed to escape the hold of the guards and backhand the woman during their first meeting. But briefly touching his choker, the brunet reminded himself of his situation.

"Already lonely, my dove?"

Squall glanced at the sorceress, but said nothing as he knew the woman would only twist his words.

With an insincere smile, Ultimecia raked her lengthy fingernails through his dark hair. "Do not worry. In a couple of weeks, he should be back in your bed. Until then, there are others who will satisfy you."

"... ..."

A melodic chuckle sounded at the lack of response. "Tonight, little dove, you will forget about that crude man."

While the sorceress returned to her throne and motioned for the guards to allow entrance to the privileged nobles, Squall stared vacantly at the dark floor in the attempt to keep himself from accidentally gazing at the trapped blond. The rebel leader knew well what Almasy would experience over the next days. First there was the healing, which would be a relief to the man's battered body, but the blond would soon learn what it meant to lose the hard-earned markings along his body. Then would come the painful changing, Ultimecia preferring the slow process to make those alterations last despite the skill of powerful healers. Though, with time came familiarity, and Squall knew he would never be rid of his unnatural wings. To lose them would be the nearly the same as amputating his hands.

As quiet settled over the numerous nobility in the room, Squall tuned out his rampant thoughts and glanced over the relatively small group. Most of the faces he knew and the others he could assume their identities by family colors. Though the sorceress never spoke of truly important matters in front of the rebel leader, Squall was able to read into her speeches given to the supporting families. There were weaknesses in her Empire, and the brunet was determined to exploit them once free of his chains.

But until that day, all the winged man could do was wait, listen, and somehow maintain his sanity.

~ > < ~

Tainted by magic, the throne room was never a comfortable place for 'mere humans'. Despite the large windows encircling the expansive room, light couldn't seem to pierce through the veil of magical energy. Sunset was the worst for some, the reddish light casting a bloody hue to the room. Squall, however, preferred that time of day, it being the moment when his wings weren't the bright white of purity and innocence, neither having much to do with the rebel leader anymore. It was also the time when the sorceress would clear out the residing nobles and sit upon her throne while deciding upon her entertainment for the evening.

As common with that time of day, the sounds of overly loud moans echoed in the sparsely decorated hall emptied of everyone but the sorceress and her pets. With Ultimecia apparently amused while toying with the woman bearing black cat ears, Squall allowed himself a glance at the large sphere hovering near the high ceiling. On occasion, groans of pain would sound from the transparent bubble, the entrapped blond serving as a reminder to the nobles that everyone was expendable if they displeased the Empress. Even highly honored officers.

An almost screeching moan abruptly sounded, Squall closing his eyes in pity for the lost woman. Most of the varied pets had given into their bodily desires, shame and dignity surrendered for that moment of release. But when they no longer cared for anything but that release, Ultimecia would typically become bored with those pets. And with boredom came death.

So it was no surprise when the cat was knocked to the floor, the sorceress sighing in disgust. "Come here, my dove."

After the silent count of three, Squall followed the order and moved on his knees to the overly large throne. A manicured hand reached down to cup his face, thus ensuring that the winged man stared directly into golden eyes gleaming with power.

Dark lips curled in amusement. "You would resist me until your final breath. That pleases me," she said with a purr. "I wonder if your love will show as much as courage when he is reborn."

Stormy eyes narrowed slightly at the woman's continued attempt to bait him with Almasy.

Ultimecia reached back to caress a wing and sighed. "It's a shame that I was pressed to change you. I could have done so much more with this body. But your love... I have been planning his transformation for many months. He will be my masterpiece."

As the silver-haired woman taunted him, Squall became briefly distracted by something else - a familiar noise. It took several seconds to recognize the piercing hum which could have been easily mistaken for a breeze if he hadn't been paying attention. While disappointed at himself for the unavoidable surge of hope, the rebel leader quickly realized that he had to divert the sorceress' attention in the vague chance that someone was truly planning to attack the throne room.

"Tell me, my dove, should I add horns to our dragon, or is that a step too far?" the woman asked, her eyes glittering with vindictive humor.

Giving the sorceress the reaction she wanted, blue-gray eyes flicked over to the hovering sphere and then back to the woman, Squall attempting a shamed look as if he hadn't wanted to show his worry for the former commander.

Ultimecia laughed before leaning in close. "Have I finally discovered your weakness?" she asked before kissing him. The touch disgusted him, but his choker burned at the mere thought of biting the sorceress, and so Squall let the woman have what she wanted.

The sudden chain of explosions brought a fast end to the sickening kiss, the sorceress sitting back in her throne with surprise. Despite his initial shocked state at the fierceness of the explosion, Squall was quickly on his feet and running for the edge of the stairs. The moment he jumped into flight, gunfire sounded in the expansive room, the echoes of the empty hall making it difficult to determine the number of attacking persons.

But uncaring about the attack except for the distraction it provided, Squall flew fast and hard to the orb hovering at the ceiling. In truth he had no idea of how to free the man, and he instantly realized that it probably wasn't the best idea to leave himself completely open to attack, but Squall didn't care. Not slowing his approach, the winged man slammed into the sphere and was surprised by how easily it moved. The large bubble had been launched from its position and flung toward a wall. Wasting precious seconds while regaining his midair balance, Squall followed the sphere, his eyes widening when the orb smashed against the dark stone and simply popped into nothingness. With a fast dive, the winged man just barely grabbed onto the falling blond, but given the man's greater weight, Squall could only slow their decent to minimize their injuries.

Dropping heavily to the ground, Almasy received the worse of it as he yelled out in the unexpected pain, the cry encouraging Squall to recover quickly as he knelt over the prone man and subconsciously sheltered him with the spread of wings. Stormy eyes widened at the sight of the partly changed man, but he quickly composed himself before the blond opened his eyes hazed with pain.

"Squall...?"

His mask almost lost at hearing his given name spoken by the scratchy voice, the brunet nodded. "Can you move?"

Green eyes shifted without much clarity. "You're bleeding."

Squall glanced back at his wing, first noticing the bullet wound coating his feathers with redness. "I'm fine. But, Almasy, can you move?"

Before the blond could manage any type of reply, Squall felt the familiar hardness of a pistol being pressed against the side of his head. The winged man briefly closed his eyes with irritation at being caught off guard.

"Release the Commander," a deeply toned voice ordered.

Unwilling to move, Squall continued to look into green eyes which narrowed in confusion.

"Raijin? What the hell... Get your grimy hands off Leonhart!" the blond snapped as he sat up sharply, obviously a bad idea when he groaned and looked about ready to pass out. Unthinking, Squall wrapped his arm behind the man and carefully helped him to lie flat on the floor. Almasy raised a hand to his forehead, then wincing at the feel of thick claws. Staring at the transformed hand, enlarged with golden scales and black claws, the blond laughed. "Fuck, I probably can't pretend that this is just a dream, can I?"

"What happened to ya?" the intruder asked as he lowered his gun.

Almasy didn't answer him, perhaps preferring denial after all. Below his left eye, golden scales had formed, covering most of the cheek. While his front torso was free of change aside from lacking hair, the rest of his body held the same patches of scales. The greatest change seemed to be the right hand and forearm covered in scales, the man's left arm spared of any transformations thus far. Squall frowned at the knowledge he held of what was to come for the former commander if he wasn't freed.

Lightning flashed and thundered in the destroyed room, shortly followed by screams and the yelling of names. The large man apparently named Raijin cursed and ran to the front of the room to help his men. Kneeling as he was, Squall couldn't see much over the pile of rubble caused by the previous explosion, but he knew well about the damage the sorceress could cause with her magic.

"They aren't supposed to be here," Almasy muttered, still staring at his changed hand.

Squall had no reply to offer as he returned his attention to the blond.

"Won't you help them?" the blond asked tiredly, a soft smirk appearing. "As a favor for me?"

"I would," the winged man stated as he stroked the choker at his throat.

"Fucking piece of shit..."

Without warning, Almasy grabbed at the ribbon-like necklace, his new claws sinking into skin as he tried to find purchase behind the interfering item. Squall winced as the man pulled at the choker, not achieving much more than partly strangling the brunet. But then several flashes of lightning once again energized the room. Squall nearly fell backward when the necklace snapped and was quickly tossed into a pile of fallen debris.

The brunet placed a hand at his throat, but then quickly smashed his instinct to determine how the choker had been broken. Pushing up to his feet, he ran into the small battle zone while zigzagging between the few piles of wall. Eventually Squall found what he was looking for and yanked a large knife from the holster a fallen soldier. Pausing there to collect his calm, the rebel leader glanced over the battle ahead of him. He was instantly surprised and disappointed by the low numbers of soldiers fighting, something Ultimecia must have found amusing given her smirk and taunting tactics.

With a deep breath, Squall brushed back his lengthy bangs before attempting to climb the mount of rock. Once steady at a decent height, the brunet launched up and flew towards the silver-haired woman. The winged man had no illusions of catching the sorceress off guard, but he smirked at her expression once she noticed him in flight. Ultimecia returned the smile, her relaxed stance proving her lack of concern about his approach.

It was obvious the moment she realized that the white choker no longer wrapped around the rebel's throat. As a deep frown replaced the amused expression, her hand shot up with sparks of electricity crawling around the length of her arm. But by then, Squall was already diving with the knife raised. When the lightning strike hit him, the winged man faltered briefly but overcame the attack he had suffered through many times before. His body still burning from the contact with electricity and darkness threatening his peripheral vision, Squall slammed into the silver-haired woman with his knife held high.

There was eerie silence for the several moments after the ungraceful attack, Squall then shakily pushing himself up into a seated position. Blue-gray eyes were icy as they focused on the face of the fallen empress and the hilt of the blade impaled through one golden eye. Knowing that the injury wouldn't keep the sorceress dead, Squall reached out for the hilt, but it oddly seemed to move further out of reach. By the time he realized that he was tilting, the threatening haze of darkness finally took over his sight and he dropped to his side. There was a moment of sound as the soldiers foolishly cheered for their victory, and despite his attempts to speak, Squall slipped into unconsciousness.

~ > < ~

On the edge of awareness, Squall was subjected to the sounds of nearly frantic moans from a short distance away. Though not remembering the apparent session of sex, the winged man was momentarily unbothered by the crude groans of pleasure. But then he recognized the deep moans as belonging to a certain blond commander. Once memories of the short battle struck Squall, his eyes snapped open with the panic that they had been recaptured by the sorceress.

The scene before him quickly appeased his fears as he focused on the sight of Almasy eating heartily into a large sandwich containing easily three layers of meat and various concessions which dripped onto the small table practically buried in food stuffs. Squall sighed at the man's understandable gluttony given his days without food, something the winged man had suffered through twice after the tasking transformations. But then confusion set in as the brunet didn't recognize his surroundings in the least.

"Oh, yer awake," Almasy muttered around a mouthful of food, then chewed some more before swallowing. "Enjoy your little nap?"

After sitting up carefully, Squall pressed fingers against his throbbing temple. "What happened? I remember up to you removing my choker... and I think I managed to get a knife..."

Green eyes widened at the question, the blond then setting down his sandwich. "Don't tell me that you forget killing that bitch."

The winged man stared at him, annoyed at being asked the obvious, and then shook his head.

"Shit, it was the most incredible thing I've seen. By the time I managed to get off my ass, you were already in flight like some avenging angel, heading directly for the whore. She attacked you with this lightning spell, but she had reacted too late and you ended up crashing right into her. It was a beautiful sight to see that blade shoved into her skull."

While most of it was still hazy, Squall did remember sitting over the limp body of the sorceress. "What happened after that? Did you remove her head?"

"Huh?" Almasy voiced with some disgust. "You killed her, Leonhart. Why would we do that?"

"What _did_ you do with her then?"

"We had to get out of there in a hurry. There were guards practically knocking down the door once they realized that the Imperial ship on the scene was one which caused all the damage in the first place. But why does it matter anyway? She's dead, nicely laid out for those noble fucks to gawk at."

"She's a _sorceress_, you idiot. Their powers make them immortal unless you separate the brain from the heart."

The blond stared at him for a moment before stating lamely, "But... you killed her."

"No, severely wounded her. She'll heal and come back," Squall said distractedly as guilt burned through him. She had been right there, passed out beneath him, and he had failed to rid the world of her toxic existence. There was no excuse for such a pathetic failure.

"Shit, shit, _shit!_" Almasy yelled out as he slammed his unchanged hand against the table. "Are you telling me that she's going to wake up any minute now with revenge on the brain? I lost six people there, Leonhart. Six out of the fifteen I managed to drag back home in the first place. I don't want to lose anymore boys for these fucking pointless reasons!"

Looking at the face reddened in anger, Squall nodded at the reminder that he shouldn't dwell on the past when dangers awaited in the future. "Where are we headed?"

The blond hesitated before replying, "We're about fifty miles out of the capital heading south. Most of the boys have family there."

"So we haven't being traveling for long," the rebel leader commented as he quickly sifted through several possibilities of what to do with the soldiers. "If you are willing to be prisoners, I can guarantee your safety."

"Whoa, you want me to surrender to you or some bullshit like that?"

"At first. Later, if you and your men want to join us against Ultimecia, that can be arranged. Once your loyalties have been tested, of course."

Green eyes narrowed in serious thought as they focused on the brunet. Meeting the implied challenge, Squall didn't break their eye contact as he let the former commander judge the sincerity of the given proposal. Almasy then stood from his chair and crossed the short distance to the bedside where he stood tall in front of the seated man. Lifting his transformed hand, he gently cupped the brunet's face. When Squall didn't react aside from leaning into the unusual touch, Almasy lightly ran the claw of his thumb over the lower lip.

"Why aren't you afraid of this?"

Squall shrugged. "You aren't out to hurt me."

"But I have hurt you. Several times. Hell, those scratches on your throat were deep enough to need stitches."

"As if you couldn't have done worse," he stated with a soft smirk. The brunet then reached up to hold onto the scaled hand. "Against better judgment and all reasonable logic, I trust you."

Green eyes shifted warily before Almasy knelt down before the shorter man and then cautiously brushed their lips together. Squall breathed a chuckle, quickly taking control as he deepened the testing kiss. Moving a hand behind the thick neck and under the loose shirt, the brunet ran his fingers down the line of scales covering a good deal of the man's upper back. Reaching the edge where skin met scales, Squall smirked into the kiss when a rumbling groan escaped the blond.

Their joining soon broken, Almasy didn't retreat far as his eyes stared into stormy blue. "I could turn on you."

"And you would if you could be certain that Ultimecia wouldn't continue what she started," Squall stated while repeatedly stroking his fingers from scale to skin.

"You really think that you know me, don't you?"

"I know what I need to know."

An uncertain smile formed, but quickly disappeared with a sigh as Almasy rested his forehead against the brunet's. "I surrender with the request of asylum for myself and my men."

"I accept your surrender," Squall replied softly. "Introduce me to your navigator and I'll give him the proper coordinates to a safe point. We'll contact my people from there."

Leaning back, the blond lightly glared at the man. "I'm trusting you with my men, Leonhart. I don't want them accidentally shot by some kid in your little army."

Squall held back the offense he felt at his word being doubted. Instead he placed a hand at the shirt-covered chest and silently wondered, maybe hoped, if Almasy was trusting him with more than just his men. "If you trust me, then trust me."

Taking hold of the hand with his unchanged hand, the blond smirked lightly. "Alright, I get the point. I do trust you. Probably more than I trust myself, but..."

The rebel leader was easily able to read the implied statement that Almasy was able to risk himself in the name of 'trust', but the others dependent on him were another matter. "Your men will be safe, Seifer," he assured the former commander.

Once his surprise passed, the blond closed his eyes in relief and chuckled quietly. "Maybe this shitty situation will work out after all."

{Continued} 


	3. Chapter 3

Lying back on a thin mattress, Seifer was entertaining himself with the rhythmic taps of his thick claws against metal bars, the beat then joined with the slower rhythm of his boot against the bed frame. The green-eyed man was never the patient sort, only able to endure long stretches of nothingness if he knew something would eventually meet a fiery end. As it was, there was only one thing to look forward to while imprisoned at the rebel base, but Squall had apparently forgotten about him in the past weeks.

Eyes closed, Seifer let his mind wander as he thought about the dark-haired man and his late-night visits. The first time it had happened, it was a surreal event to the wakened blond, his fuzzy mind thinking that an angel had come to show him some mercy. But then Seifer had quickly regained his senses and recognized that it was the winged-man who had come to relieve some built up tension. While the visits following that one were sporadic, Squall couldn't last very long without the proper touch, and for a reason which evaded Seifer, the brunet trusted no one else to pleasure him. Though, of course, the blond soldier had little to complain about with the given situation.

At a familiar whispered noise, his chapped lips formed a pleased smirk, that being the only outward sign which proved he heard the quiet sound of feathers as he continued his tapping. The padding of feet could soon be heard, the light steps halting in front of barred door. After the swipe of a card and the press of buttons, the door slid open and nearly took the clawed hand with it, but Seifer didn't vocalize a complaint to that fact, and instead moved his hand to the concrete wall in order to continue the random rhythm. His attempt to feign disinterest faltered, however, when he heard the unzipping of the shirt made specially for the winged-man.

With a half-lidded gaze, Seifer looked to his side and glanced over the lithe body as it was slowly revealed to him. Either unnoticing or uncaring about his audience, Squall casually unzipped the other side of his black sleeveless shirt before pulling it over his head. After a brief stretch backward and a small flutter of the large wings, the brunet then set to the task of removing his pants and dark boxers.

"Haven't been sleeping well?"

Free of clothing, Squall turned to meet the observant gaze but said nothing since the rings under his eyes were something he couldn't deny.

With an exaggerated grunt, Seifer swung his legs over the mattress edge to sit up straight. "It's been awhile since you visited. Did you miss me, angel?"

There was no verbal reply as the winged-man smiled faintly, and then walked the short distance forward such that he straddled a leg thick with muscle. Sitting on that leg, Squall placed cool fingertips on the scaled cheek and stroked gently before he then moved his hand into short hair and forced the smirking man to bend down for a deep kiss. Seifer had no reason to resist him as he joined in the rough mouth play. Though still cautious about his deformed hand, he gently ran the back of his claws and fingernails along chilled flesh before he squeezed the tight ass. The brunet responded beautifully to the touch as he whimpered and moved forward to rub his beginning arousal against the clothed leg.

Breaking the kiss, Seifer leaned back to gaze into the blue-gray eyes already moist with overwhelming desire. "Yeah, I've been bored without you, too."

Squall scowled lightly. "Why are you still dressed?"

The blond laughed deeply at the annoyed tone. "Because you haven't been doing your job properly."

With a sudden and loud move, feathered wings spread outward at the same moment the man stood up and stepped back a bare distance. Looking much like an avenging angel, Squall sneered at the seated man. "Get up."

Meeting the stony eyes, Seifer pushed up from the bed and took a step forward to prove his height over rebel leader. Undaunted, the brunet met the challenging gaze while he reached forward and grabbed onto the pants of the worn Imperial uniform. Not breaking their eye contact, Squall removed the thin barrier of cloth and let the material drop down the muscular legs. After a vague smile and a teasing kiss pressed against the scaled cheek, he shoved his hands against Seifer's chest to force him back on the bed. Tripped by the pants around his ankles, the large man fell hard onto the thin mattress.

"Fuck, must you be so rough?" the blond asked with mock hurt, unable to completely hide his smile. "I'm in a delicate state, y'know. Held prisoner for weeks on end, never seeing the light of day, and fed the worse--"

"Shut up, Seifer."

The former Imperial officer smirked at the hissed out command, then holding out his clawed hand to steady the man as Squall moved onto his lap. Cold hands slipped beneath the gray shirt, the chilling touch causing golden skin to jump slightly. The shirt was removed without too much trouble, though Seifer knew his hair was doing strange things judging by the secretive smile of the brunet. Squall placed his hands on the bared shoulders, then sliding his icy fingertips down the scaled upper back. The touch which crossed from scale to skin caused a pleasurable shiver to course through Seifer's body and a delighted hum to rumble in his throat. Showing his appreciation, the blond leaned forward to kiss the long neck, his lips covering the dark scars which his claws had created when he had freed Squall from his collar.

A needy sound escaped the winged man as he pushed his hips forward and rubbed his erection against the muscle-hardened stomach. Chuckling, Seifer moved his unchanged hand along smooth flesh, and after stroking the man's inner thigh with the back of his fingernails, he grasped onto the stiff organ with a fisted hold. At the none-too-gentle touch, Squall released a shuddering breath as he rested his head on a shoulder and raised his hands to bury his fingertips deep into blond hair.

"Tell me what you want, angel."

The brunet growled out, "Fuck me," before biting the exposed throat.

Seifer groaned at the painful attack, but his smirk didn't falter as he pumped his hand along the strained erection. "Shit, did you forget to eat something before coming down here?"

After light licks against the wounded throat, Squall sat up straight to stare heatedly into green eyes. No more words spoken, Seifer smiled softly at the sight of pained desire in the blue-gray eyes, and after gently brushing aside lengthy bangs with a clawed finger, he leaned back against the wall for better positioning. One hand steady on a broad shoulder, the winged man lifted onto his knees and used his free hand to help guide Seifer's hardened cock to his opening. Unlike times before, Squall impaled himself slowly onto the thick length, sighing softly when the last couple inches slid inside of him.

Entranced by the blissful expression of his angel, Seifer didn't shift his eyes from the man's face while he moved his hands to the lean waist and then squeezed lightly in a silent signal. The hand at his shoulder tightened before Squall lifted onto his knees and moved back down in a hard drive. The repetitive motions soon gained speed and a rougher edge as they continued, forcing the winged man to move his other hand to Seifer's chest for better support. At a particularly hard downward shove, the blond groaned in bliss as his whole body tensed at the shock of pleasure. Squall hissed in pain and arched back before renewing the previous rhythm. Licking his lips, Seifer spoke his apology in a rough voice as he willed his deformed hand to relax. Stormy eyes flashed coolly at the apology and pale lips formed a secretive smile before the thrusts became harder and deeper with the help of the large wings.

Seifer came first into constricting heat, his low grunt soon followed by a softer whine which escaped the brunet as he found his own release. With an exhausted smirk, the blond wrapped his arms around the slim waist and lifted the man high enough to remove himself from the comforting tightness. With practiced handling, Seifer maneuvered the smaller man to lie down on the narrow bed such that one wing rested over them both and the other hung limply over the mattress edge. The white feathers were blessedly cool to the touch despite the annoyance of them sticking to sweaty flesh.

After a short time of recovery, the stoic man was surprisingly the first one to speak. "This could be more comfortable."

Seifer smirked at the implied question he had been waiting for. "I'm not joining your little army, Leonhart."

"But why?" the rebel leader asked, some of his frustration escaping within the simple question.

"The same reasons I told you weeks ago. No matter how much I enjoy our romps, I'm not willing to risk my life over a good fuck. This way I have a decent bed, regular meals, and mind-blowing sex, and I don't have to lift a Hyne-damned finger for any of it."

Squall huffed. "I can't believe you're happy like this."

"It's not the best situation, but..." Seifer sighed as he grabbed onto the base of a wing with his deformed hand. "You don't want me as a soldier if I don't have something to fight for. I'm quite the lazy bastard."

"Then how could you fight for Ultimecia?"

"Fame and power, including the occasional reward," the blond stated with a suggestive thrust of his hips. "And before you say it, no, you can't give me the same. I know you don't want to hear it, but you aren't going to win this war, and losers never become legends."

There was a silent moment before Squall lifted his wing and pushed at the bare chest before him. Though Seifer wanted otherwise, he didn't try to keep the brunet in place, and instead watched as the lithe man bent over to retrieve his clothes from the cement floor.

"You're bleeding," Seifer stated dully as he flexed his clawed hand.

After glancing down at the two deep puncture wounds at his lower back, Squall shrugged and started to dress.

"And where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"A meeting," the rebel leader muttered with disinterest. "I need a shower first."

"Rather late for a meeting, isn't it?"

"Wars don't follow a nine to five schedule."

No more words passed between them as Squall finished dressing in his sleeveless shirt and dark pants. He then removed the card from his pocket to unlock the barred door, his skill at blindly punching in his code greatly improved since his first visit to the cell. Once the winged man had stepped through and the door was closed with a loud clang, Seifer reluctantly swung his legs over the mattress edge and sat hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees.

"Hey, Squall."

The rebel leader paused and glanced into the cell.

"Come back soon, alright?"

A hesitant nod with the silky shift of dark hair was the only reply Squall offered before continuing his steps toward the prison wing entrance. Seifer didn't move from his seated position as he listened to the receding steps and debated about the rush of getting dressed. Pale eyebrows then scrunched in thought when he heard his angel speaking with someone else down the corridor. Recognizing the arguing tones, Seifer leaned up from the bed and retrieved his boxers and pants from the floor before standing straight. Though wishing that he had the chance to clean up, the blond had a good feeling that he was going to have a visitor at any moment, and shortly after zipping up, he got his visitor.

"Nida..." Seifer stated in a surprised breath, not having seen the dark-haired man since another prison months back.

After an uncomfortable shift of brown eyes, the smaller man sighed and met the blond's gaze, but said nothing as his lips twisted into a pathetically weak smile.

Green eyes narrowed with understanding. "Wanted to finish the job, is it? Well, go ahead. I won't stop you."

"Finish... the job?"

"Yeah. Spying, assassinating... basically the same thing, right?" Seifer said with a confident smirk. "And, hell, you certainly deserve your revenge, so I don't really mind."

Dark eyes went wide before Nida held up his hands in a denying motion. "I won't... I mean, I can't... Fucking hell, Seifer, I'm not here to _kill_ you. What makes you think I could do that?"

A pale eyebrow arched. "Well, there is the matter of our last meeting."

"You mean when you saved my life?"

Seifer scoffed. "I sliced you up. I'd hardly call that a sane method of saving someone's life."

Hands lowered, Nida showed a familiar amused expression. "You are such a prick, did you know that? I've been avoiding you all these weeks because I thought you'd be a rational person and despise the person who betrayed you for over seven years. Instead, here you are, worried about giving me a couple of deep cuts. You saved my life, you stupid bastard, and just moments after you learned that I was the enemy."

"Like you said back then, you were a spy before you were my friend, and Squall told me the basics about your motives. In the end, it was nothing personal, so I won't hold it against you."

"You're something else, Commander," Nida said with the shake of his head.

"What about you? If you were so afraid of me, how did you get the guts to finally come down here?" the blond asked in a light tone, hiding his relief to have his friend back this simply.

"Truthfully, it wasn't my decision. Squall just now ordered me to talk with you. He said something about you whining about being left alone in your cell."

"That little prick," Seifer muttered while picking up his shirt from the floor and slipping it on. "So if you weren't planning to visit me, then what are you doing here in the cell block? Got a new girlfriend I haven't heard about?"

Nida grinned suggestively. "Squall asked me to remind him about the meeting tonight, and since he wasn't in his quarters, I figured that he was here."

"Hell, don't tell me that Leonhart's visits are common knowledge."

"Hardly. There are a few trusted guards and myself who know, and of course his father knows, though he is certainly the least pleased about the whole matter. Loire doesn't understand why Squall has to rely on you to... relieve his stress."

Seifer smirked happily at the thought of unintentional pissing off the rebel king. "Serves him right for leaving his son within my grasp for that long."

"Right, well, just remember our rule about too many details," Nida stated with a raised hand. "But listen, technically I'm supposed to be watching over Squall, so I should get going."

"Now why in the world would that man need a babysitter?"

"It's just precautionary. He's still recovering from that coma of his, so someone watches over him to make certain he doesn't suddenly collapse."

After a stunned moment, Seifer asked, "Coma? What coma?"

Dark eyes widened vaguely. "He didn't tell you? Ah shit, he's going to kill me. I had better--"

Before the man could walk off, the former commander launched forward and slipped his arm through the bars to grab onto the brunet's uniform with his clawed hand. "Tell me, Nida."

"He probably didn't want you to worry," the dark-eyed man said, obviously divided between his fear of the Lion and his fear of the Dragon.

"Nida..."

Squeaking as thick claws pierced through his shirt, Nida surrendered to the warning tone. "A few weeks ago, he was shot out of the sky and he fell hard. I wasn't there, but when his team brought him back, he was quite the mess. The healers did what they could, but he didn't wake up until four days ago. Since then, he has suffered occasional fainting spells, so that's why there is always someone assigned to watch over him."

Eyes wide, Seifer asked, "Then what the hell was he doing down here? He should've been in bed."

"He has been fine for the past 36 hours, and... well, the truth is that he's been a complete ass to deal with, so I 'accidentally' left my card key in his room and then decided to take a walk. A very long walk."

Releasing his hold on the ruined uniform, the blond stepped back from the barred door. "And he came here."

While scowling at the holes in his shirt, Nida scoffed. "He wanted to see you the day he woke up, but Loire doesn't trust you around Squall when he's weakened. As you know, healers can cure wounds and poisonings, but a body still needs time to recover, and Loire thought you'd take advantage of that."

"... Let me out."

With an uncertain laugh, the dark-eyed man stared at his friend. "What do you mean?"

"Let me out of this cell, Nida. And then take me to Squall."

Though initially hesitant, the former spy stepped over to the locking mechanism and slipped out a card from his pocket. "A good thing Squall thought to return my cardkey before he walked off," the man muttered before the barred door slid open. With a resigned sigh, Nida then ordered, "Hands behind your back."

A pale eyebrow arched high. "Do you have a kinky side that I don't know about?"

"Perhaps, but right now, my only concern is to keep people from panicking about an escaped prisoner."

Without many more words, the two men left the wing of cells with Seifer in the lead and hands held behind his back as if bound. Standing behind the blond, Nida had his hands over the wrists to hide the fact that there was nothing that would prevent the larger man from causing mass havoc in the rebel base. The late hour was to their benefit since few people were roaming the hallways, especially in the corridor where most of the officers resided. Even so, Nida's hold was painfully tight as they approached an unlabeled door.

It wasn't until after the second string of knocks when the door finally opened, revealing a shirtless and damp angel. Surprise was briefly visible in the typically stony eyes, then replaced with a lightly scolding glare in Nida's direction.

"I probably should have known better than to leave you alone with him."

Releasing his hold, Nida held up his hands and took a step back. "I refuse any and all responsibility. And for the record, he tortured me until I told him what he wanted to hear," he added while pointing at the gashes in his shirt.

His eyelids closed in a silent sigh, Squall told him, "Wait out here until I'm done with Seifer." That said, he turned sharply and walked inside as his implied order for the blond soldier to follow him.

Seifer waited to speak until the door slid shut and beeped once automatically locked. "Why didn't you tell me you were in a fucking coma for three weeks? How could you be stupid enough to let yourself be injured like that?"

"It wasn't any of your business," he replied with a harsh edge, "and I wasn't being stupid."

"Oh, yeah? Then tell me, angel, what happened to land you in the infirmary?"

Squall hesitated before stepping to a dresser. "It was a standard search and destroy mission, but the explosives didn't respond to our trigger."

"And being the good little hero that you are, you flew over to rewire the damned thing," Seifer finished for the man, his voice coated in sarcasm. "You know what, you're right. You weren't being stupid. You were being fucking _insane_ and probably deserved to get shot."

After pulling out a black shirt from the dresser, Squall slammed the drawer shut. "Did you escape from your cell just to inform me of that fact?"

"Somebody obviously has to."

With a deep scowl, Squall put on his shirt and zipped up the two sides. Completely dressed, he then asked, "Why does it matter to you?"

Glaring at the winged man, Seifer found he had no response for the question, something he subconsciously avoided during the walk from the cell block. He didn't love the man before him, or at least not the gushing type of love which he had seen friends suffer through time and time again. And if he wanted to be truthful, he had a few sickeningly sweet relationships in his past where pet names and extremely long goodbyes were sadly commonplace. It was from those experiences that made him doubt that anything he felt for Squall could be considered love. But to hear that the man had been seriously injured while he had been lying on his back and doing nothing...

Interrupting the blond's thoughts, Squall said, "Forget it. You know the conditions about releasing you from your cell."

"And I told you that I won't join your pathetic rebel squad."

"Then I'll have Nida escort you back."

"No chance of that one either."

The brunet sighed. "You can't have it both ways, Seifer."

"Sure I can," he countered, then stepping forward to place his changed hand beneath the man's chin. "I'll fight with you and watch your back, but only in a mercenary role. In other words, no one better give me a damned order unless I happen to be fucking said person."

A dark eyebrow twitched. "As long as you don't word it that way to anyone else... then fine."

Seifer smiled broadly at the easy acceptance to his terms, but before he could further show his appreciation, Squall pressed cold fingertips against his lips.

"I have that meeting to attend. Stay here and feel free to use the shower. I'll see you in a few hours."

"Are you saying that I smell?" Seifer muttered against the fingers, then licking them.

Jerking his hand away, Squall stated, "Yes," before walking around the larger man and exiting his quarters.

Green eyes didn't move away from that door for a long time, the former Imperial officer half-expecting guards to burst through at any moment. But when nothing happened and his skin began to itch at the idea of a hot shower, Seifer scoffed at his paranoid nature and removed his worn uniform, which was then promptly dumped in a small trash can at the side of a metal desk. With the lagging thought that he didn't have any other clothes to change into after his shower, Seifer smirked and pondered over all the possibilities of what his angel would do once finding him naked in bed.

* * *

Filthy with dust and blood, Seifer couldn't stop smirking at the lovely sight of battered wings which had lost some of their whiteness over the past weeks of fighting. Of course Squall would be cleaning the lengthy feathers at his next free chance, but Seifer favored the wings in an impure state which he felt better suited the rebel leader. Once entering the small living quarters, the large man placed his hands at the slim waist and pulled Squall against him so that he could better attack the pale neck. Though moaning in bliss at the grazing of teeth, the brunet broke out of the man's hold.

"I can't believe you have the energy for that," Squall muttered while removing his clothes with lethargic motions.

Getting to work on his own clothing, Seifer pouted childishly. "You were the one who got the damned hand-job on the flight back here. What about my needs, hmmm?"

"They don't matter," he stated, tossing his soiled and torn shirt in a corner of the room.

"Damn, you must be tired," the blond commented as he watched the discarded shirt soon joined by its matching pair of pants. "I don't think I've ever seen you make such a large mess before."

"Whatever..."

Quickly stripping of his crusty clothes, Seifer made it to the bed before the brunet and took his usual place with his back pressed against the wall. Squall briefly scowled at the man's apparent energy, but still chose to join the larger man in the relatively small bed. Once fitted together with practiced ease, the winged man sighed warm breath against the broad hairless chest.

"Why do you bother having your own quarters if you're always here?"

"To keep up appearances," Seifer murmured as his clawed hand stroked along the naked body pressed up against him.

"People are blind if they haven't noticed us yet. That room could be put to better use."

"Hey, that's my hard earned room we're talking about. Five fucking months of my life wasted on your stupid little morals and good causes. You aren't going to take that room away from me without a fight."

"But you never use it," Squall stated with frustration as he abruptly grabbed onto the scaled hand to stop its motions along cool skin.

"Just because I'm not in that room, it doesn't mean I'm not using it. People will pay good money for privacy in this damned base."

After a moment of silence, the rebel leader muttered, "I didn't hear that," before shifting to be better positioned for sleep.

Seifer chuckled quietly. "A-aw, you can't handle the thought of your partner breaking the base rules while making some money on the side? Well, when this war is over and I buy you some expensive oils for those wings of yours, you'll be worshipping me for my business techniques."

"I thought you said we couldn't win."

"And I stick by that comment, but I've already devised an escape plan for when things turn sour around here, and I'm taking you with me whether you come willingly or not."

Squall sighed, showing his thoughts about the plan. "Why are you still here?"

"Don't know, really. I guess I don't have anywhere else to go," Seifer said as he freed his hand and moved it so that he could raked his clawed fingers through dark hair. "What about you? I don't see you trying to get rid of me yet. Well, aside from getting me involved in those half-thought out attack plans of yours. Really, timers can be set for longer than twenty freaking minutes, y'know."

After a time of thought, the lithe man shrugged. "Feels good," he murmured, his exhaustion revealing itself in the low voice.

With a soft smile, Seifer said, "Go to sleep, angel. I'll fuck you in the morning."

"That's what you think," Squall growled half-heartedly, soon asleep with drawn out breaths.

For the blond, however, the urge to get his own rest was gone as he continued to stroke deadly claws through thick hair. Five months. That was the length of his 'mercenary' history within the rebel army, and yet it was hard for Seifer to remember his past without the man in his hold. Everything was oddly simple as compared to his life in the Imperial Force. The rebels were lacking in so many ways from technology to capable soldiers, but Seifer hadn't anticipated the difference strong hearts could make within an army. These people were fighting for their very lives and future while the members of the Imperial Force were only fulfilling a duty. While a pathetically small chance, Seifer was beginning to believe that the rebels could win their fight against the Empress. And though there were several variables to consider, he figured that the outcome would most depend on who died first: Ultimecia or Loire and his son.

Seifer scowled at the reality that the Empress was nearly impossible to kill, which was proven by her 'miracle revival' months back. It was a devastating blow to the rebels since her awakening from death 'proved' to her followers that Hyne had blessed the sorceress to rule over common men. But judging by reports from spies, the Empress hadn't fully recovered from the knife implanted in her skull. She may have been sadistic before, but madness had taken over the woman. And with madness came foolhardy decisions, or so the rebels hoped. But all Seifer had noticed in the past months was senseless cruelty in her methods. It made him ill to think about her most recent demonstration when she sacrificed orphaned children and somehow drew cheers and praise from her followers over the gruesome event.

The crack of a whip made Seifer sit up sharply in bed with his clawed hand held out before his face. It wasn't for several seconds until he finally recognized the sound as loud knocking which had wakened him from a dream. With his unchanged hand pressed against his face, he cursed his conscience for tormenting him about the massacre he had witnessed on the vid screen and could do nothing about. But the moment of self-pity had to wait with the knocking started up again.

Muttering that he was coming, Seifer tiredly made his way out of the bed which Squall had vacated at some point. With a single glance at the closed bathroom door, the blond grinned at the thought of his angel cleaning up his body and wings. It was a wonder at times that the obsessive compulsive man was a legendary swordsman who had been bathed in blood more than a few times in his life.

Once dressed in a pair of boxers, the blond unlocked the door and slid it open. "This better be good," he growled out before setting eyes on the cause of his wakeup call. Once seeing the reddened eyed gaze of his friend, Seifer immediately straightened to full alert. "What's wrong?"

Nida opened his mouth as if to say something, but then shook his head. "Is the General here? It'd be easier to say everything at once."

Frowning at the deadened tone of voice, Seifer stepped aside to let the dark-eyed man enter the small quarters. Instead of choosing a seat, Nida went to the window and stood in a manner which clearly meant trouble to the former commander. Fortunately tense silence didn't last long as the bathroom door opened and Squall exited while drying his hair with a small towel. Stormy eyes took in the scene immediately as he paused, and then moved to the dresser for clean clothes.

"I assume you can tell me everything while I get dressed?"

Nida nodded sharply, moving into his news without preamble. "Ultimecia learned about the location of 'Haven'. She had discovered two of our spies and tortured the information out of them. And when she was done, she had the bodies delivered as a warning. They were still barely alive, but only because of some kind of magic... they won't live..."

Watching the man teeter on the edge of breaking down, Seifer was surprised when Squall moved over to Nida and hugged him tightly. It wasn't exactly a friendly hold, but the former spy seemed appreciative of the solid contact.

"When did this happen?" the winged man asked in a soothing voice.

"This morning... but we just heard," Nida replied in a hiccoughing manner. "They're tryin'... to evacuate everyone... but so many..."

Hushing the sobbing man, Squall carefully led him to the bed and forced him to sit down. Not understanding the situation completely, Seifer watched on while his clawed hand twitched open and closed. He had never witnessed Nida succumbing to anguish like this, and his chest burned with the desire to kill someone for causing the generally cheerful man such pain.

"Stay here until you calm down, and then I'll see you in the war room. I assume my father is waiting for me there?"

Nida nodded sharply, his breaths still extremely ragged.

Squall turned to face the blond, the intensity of cold flame in the stormy eyes stunning him. "Get dressed."

While automatically following the man's order, Seifer glared at the man in a silent demand that everything will be explained once Nida wasn't an issue. The winged man returned the glare in his own wordless demand to hurry the fuck up. Still slipping on his shirt, the blond followed after Squall into the corridor, leaving behind the silent Nida to deal with his apparent grief.

"What the hell was that all about?" Seifer hissed out once the door slid shut.

"I'm not completely certain, but there was a girl Nida had convinced to join our side. She's been a spy for nearly four years now, and I believe they were close."

"Ah shit, you don't think she was one of the people who got caught, do you?" When Squall didn't correct his assumptions, the former commander raked fingers through his hair in a troubled gesture. "Fuck. I thought there was someone he was seeing, but he never admitted to it... But how come you know so much about him?"

It was silent for a time, the brunet not speaking until they reached the elevator and the doors closed. "I've known him since we were young.... I was a part of the group who found Nida sleeping on the burnt ruins of his home. My father tried to approach him, but he was terrified of any adult, so I was the one to convince him that we wouldn't hurt him. He then refused to leave my side for a few weeks after that."

"Hn, so that's why you weren't bothered by dressing in front of him."

The winged man shrugged. "We were never that way, if that's what you're asking. After a year or so, he got over his fears and started to make friends with the other orphans. I haven't spent much time with him since then, but I guess he's the closest I'll get to having a brother."

The quiet ping of the elevator sounded before the doors opened, and Seifer stepped out first. "What about this... 'Haven', was it? I don't remember hearing about it before."

"Do you really think I would tell a traitor everything I know?"

The former Imperial soldier scoffed. "I'd be ashamed to call you my lover if you gave away secrets without thought about the consequences."

After a shake of his head, Squall explained, "'Haven' is a highly protected base hidden in the Highlands mountain region. Its purpose is to house people who shouldn't be involved in this war - our families, orphans, seniors... Ultimecia knows it'll take more than a surprise attack to destroy our defenses."

"And so she decided on psychological warfare with those spies. Sounds like our Lady."

The winged man stopped suddenly, forcing Seifer to turn and face him with question in the green eyes. Not looking at the blond, Squall said, "If you're planning to desert us, do it now before this battle starts."

"Where the hell is that coming from?"

The burnet glanced up, his stormy eyes soft with a somber glow. "This could be it. If we can't protect 'Haven', there's nothing left to fight for."

With a slight frown, Seifer stepped up to the smaller man and placed his scaled hand around the back of the long neck. Stroking his clawed thumb along pale skin, he said, "I can't promise much about the future, but I swear that I would never desert you in a battle."

The corner of soft lips curled into a bare smile. "We shouldn't make my father wait even longer."

~ > < ~

Running through narrow hallways lit by emergency lights, Seifer muttered out random profanities concerning senseless birds who should be locked in cages for their own safety. The difficulties of the last weeks were starting to show on the large man - dark rings had formed under his eyes, his body bared bandages from various wounds, and his stride lacked some of its typical energy. As Squall had feared, the battle to protect 'Haven' was going to be the final battle in the twenty-five-year long war, and it didn't appear that the rebels would survive much longer. Every resource was being put into their final defense, but Seifer knew that the Empress was far from exhausting her own reserves. He knew every important ship in the fleet, and only half of them had made their appearance on the battlefield. And the Imperial Army had always outnumbered the rebels easily ten to one, which didn't account for those rebels who couldn't fight.

But the Empress had apparently become impatient waiting for the inevitable end to the war. While she had chosen an airship which didn't stand out among the other vessels, Squall had felt her approach with an almost maddening gleam to his eyes. With Nida's navigation skills and a sharpshooter among the rebels, they had forced the ship to make an emergency landing away from the main battlefield. Foolishly impatient, Squall left their ship before it had landed and flew to the downed airship to face the sorceress.

And that left Seifer to chase after the winged man, his scowl never faltering despite the enjoyment he found at seeing the blood-spattered walls and numerous fallen bodies lying on the metal floor of the corridors. While he was furious at Squall for being an idiot hero yet again, Seifer had to admit that the sickening pull within his chest was agitating him even more. The sorceress was calling for him, coaxing him that he belonged within her service. And though the man hadn't spoken of it, Seifer figured that Squall's recent strange behavior over the past day must have been caused by a similar pull, it most likely being stronger for him with too much time spent as the sorceress' pet. But while the brunet's rash action made better sense, it didn't stop the former commander from continuing his random curses.

A flash of light and a muffled scream from a side corridor made Seifer slow his pace and reach for his gun, but he quickly remembered that the weapon had a single emergency bullet left, the rest wasted on the men he had encountered in the ship. Keeping the revolver free in its holster, the blond tightened his grasp onto his blade, the hilt of which made specially for his scaled hand. With a cautious pace, Seifer approached the doorway left partly open due to the lack of main energy in the crashed airship. His breath stalled at the first glance inside.

Encircled by magically formed vines, Squall was on his knees with his arms held up to protect his face from the whip-like attacks. One wing hung at a sickening angle, obviously broken and still bleeding despite the already soaked feathers. Meanwhile, across the large room, Ultimecia looked on with her golden eyes shining brightly and her dark red lips curled into a vengeful sneer.

"It seems we have a guest," the sorceress purred before glancing to the doorway. "My golden dragon. I was hoping to have the chance to rescue you from this disobedient pet."

Though wary of the woman's intentions, Seifer sheathed his sword and stepped inside. "Your Highness," he greeted with a slight bow of his head.

She hummed appreciatively. "I hadn't the chance to view upon your changes before you were stolen from me. Yes, those golden scales suit you better than I imagined."

While his clawed hand twitched vaguely, the former Imperial soldier didn't respond to comment as he forced himself to meet her glowing gaze. He hadn't noticed it from the doorway, but her eyes were now mismatched with her once injured eye baring a silver hue to the golden glow. The sight of which gave him hope that if one scar remained, perhaps her brain didn't heal completely from Squall's attack, thus validating the rumors of her recent mental illness.

"However, it is a shame that the process was interrupted before you had reached your full potential. No matter. I will correct that once we return to the palace. You deserve the wings this one tried to deny you."

Seifer showed no surprise at the comment, already learning from Squall about the numerous 'improvements' the silver-haired woman had planned for him. While the leathery wings vaguely appealed to him given his envy over Squall's ability to fly, he dreaded the nearly full body of scales and the pointless horns which would have added to the dragon imagery.

"Why so silent, my dragon? Are you afraid that I would punish you for being tainted by this one?" she asked as a vine lashed out and drove a pained grunt from the winged man.

At the words, the blond suddenly understood that the sorceress didn't realize how it was his own men and not the rebels who had rescued him that day many months ago. "Perhaps I am, your Highness."

"It is reasonable for you to fear me," Ultimecia stated with an aristocratic smile. "And do not misunderstand me. I know about your activities with those who defy my rule, but I don't blame you. You are my masterpiece, and I will have you at my side."

"No..."

Startled by the raspy voice, Seifer glanced over at the kneeling man who had lowered his hands to glare at the sorceress. The lithe body was shaking from pain, and yet the battered man appeared confident as he met the softly glowing gaze of the silver-haired woman.

"I won't give him to you," Squall stated in a firmer tone.

"That isn't your decision to make," Ultimecia replied threateningly.

In a rapid sequence which Seifer almost didn't catch, the thorn-covered vines vanished into green mist hardly a second before an invisible force slammed into Squall and flung him across the room to impact against a metal wall. The sharp cry of the brunet still echoed in Seifer's ears as he watched Squall drop to the floor and lay unmoving in an unnaturally limp position.

An inhuman growl sounded in the room, and though a part of Seifer was impressed that he could make such a noise, he didn't focus on that thought as he turned his attention to the smirking sorceress. His sword instantly in hand and held low, the blond soldier spirited toward the woman before she thought to glance in his direction. Golden eyes widened in surprise at the fast approaching man, but she didn't react otherwise. Though her casual stance set off red flags in Seifer's mind, he continued to follow through with his attack as he stopped before the woman and transferred his momentum to the upper slash of his blade. The sudden resistance inches before the woman wasn't expected, but the clawed hand had a firm grip on the hilt and continued to force the blade forward. Though its speed had been greatly reduced, the sword broke through the magical barrier and sliced the pale skin at the base of her long neck. But before he was able to register the damage he had done and plan a follow-through attack, a flash of bright light blinded Seifer and he lost all sense of direction.

"Why must ALL of my pets _defy me?!_" the sorceress shrieked hysterically.

His eyesight returning, Seifer found himself halfway across the room and lying on his side. Still disoriented and his body aching from the rough handling, he didn't attempt fast moments as he looked for his missing sword, and then silently swore when he saw his blade resting at the feet of the sorceress. Shifting his eyes up the length of the tall woman, Seifer tensed with anger at the sight of the minor wound which the sorceress could heal without effort.

Eyes closed, the silver-haired woman shook her head in a frustrated manner before she glared at the fallen soldier. "I gift you with your body, and you repay me like this? I make you better, more than human, and you dare to cause me such shame?"

"I never wanted this," Seifer shot back.

"Your feeble mind never knew such improvements were possible."

Continuing to glare at the sorceress, he discreetly moved his unchanged hand to reach for his gun, but discovered that he had lost the revolver during the surprise attack.

"You will learn," Ultimecia stated in cool tones. "You are my masterpiece and soon you will desire nothing more than to please me."

Seifer wasn't given the chance to retaliate as the sorceress raised her hand. White flames briefly danced along the elegant fingers before the magical fire engulfed the blond soldier. He yelled out at the expected pain and covered his face with his arms, but soon feeling the coldness of the metal floor against his skin, he quickly remembered the purpose of the flames. Lowering his arms to the floor with the intent to push himself up, Seifer watched on helplessly as he was abruptly enclosed within the familiar bubble of magic. Growling, he clawed at the deceptively fragile looking shell, but the barrier hardly bent, let alone tore at his attempt to escape.

Ultimecia smiled fondly at the trapped man and approached with unhurried steps. "Do not fear, my golden dragon. I won't let you escape me again."

As Seifer glared at the sorceress, he could already feel the scaled area under his eye burning from magic and there was also the sense of tiredness which was slowly overcoming him. Even so, he continued his ineffectual attempt to claw himself free from the magical enclosure. The silver-haired woman shushed him as if he were a child and reached out to place her hand on the bubble.

The loud crack of gunfire abruptly sounded, and due to him glaring heatedly at the smug face, Seifer watched in awe as a bullet impacted with the magical shield protecting the sorceress, and though it slowed greatly by the barrier such that Seifer briefly saw the small projectile, it broke through and hit its target of the undamaged golden eye.

As she screamed out in pain and fury, the bubble burst without warning and dropped the stunned blond to the metal floor several inches below. Though he should have known better than to turn his back to the sorceress, Seifer looked in the direction of where the shot had come from. A proud smirk came to his lips when he saw Squall kneeling with the blond's gun in his hands, but that smirk quickly vanished when Seifer noticed that both of the feathered wings hung oddly at his sides and the brunet was clearly favoring his right leg.

Stormy eyes bright with unnamed emotions shifted to Seifer. "Kill her," he ordered in a hoarse, desperate tone.

Like many times before, the stony-eyed gaze cleared the blond's mind of all fears and worries, enabling Seifer to focus on the task at hand. With grace he rarely showed, the large man curled his legs beneath him and launched onto his feet. Running to his dropped sword, Seifer kept one eye on the sorceress who was vaguely trying to escape the room with stumbling steps. His clawed hand grasped onto the dark hilt of his blade, and Seifer turned with a vicious sneer on his lips as he set his sharp gaze on the injured woman, the torturer of his angel. Green eyes glinted with rage before Seifer raised his blade high and ran the final steps to the silver-haired woman. As he yelled out something akin to a roar, the heavy sword swung down and beheaded the sorceress in a single blow.

His breaths ragged and his body shaking, Seifer stared down at the murdered woman. "That's it?" he asked no one in particular.

"Expectin' fireworks?" Squall replied, his words slightly slurred.

With his sword held loosely at his side, the blond stepped over to the winged man. "Can you walk?"

His response was a weak scoff. "My foot isn't exactly facing the right direction."

"Hn, are you sure that this isn't some ploy to get me to carry you?" Seifer asked with reflexive sarcasm.

Squall glared lightly at the large man, but his retort was cut off by the sound of numerous footsteps. Spinning around with his bloodied blade held before him, Seifer eyed the partly opened doorway and readied himself to defend his helpless angel. Once the first person stepped through, however, all the tension evaporated from the blond.

"Nida, what took you so fucking long?"

The dark-haired man jumped at his name, but then relaxed once seeing the large man. "We got delayed... but sorry, am I interrupting something here?"

Abruptly remembering his bare state, Seifer fought the urge to cover himself like an embarrassed schoolboy. "The bitch was having her fun at my expense. So are you going to stand there and gawk or are you going to hand over your jacket?"

After slipping off his uniform jacket and tossing it to the nude man, Nida looked down at the beheaded woman. "That's the Empress..." he stated with numbed surprise. "Does this mean it's over? Did we win?"

"No," Squall said in his quiet way. "There are still those below her who command the armies, but they won't last long without their 'divine leader'. The end is near, but I'd hardly call it a win."

A bitter laugh left Seifer as he finished securing the jacket around his waist. "Enough of this 'no one wins a war' philosophical bullshit. Assuming Nida cleared the way for us, I think it's time to get our asses out of here."

The stony-eyed man smiled softly and nodded.

Nida finally moved his eyes from the beheaded corpse and looked at his leader. "Holy shit, Squall... you're--"

Cutting off the man, Seifer said, "I've got him. Just make certain no one takes advantage of us while we're walking around like lame prey." The large man bent down and carefully lifted the highly injured angel. At Squall's loud gasp, the blond looked into the slightly glazed eyes. "Hey, are you going to be able to hold on?"

After a moment to regain his breath, the brunet spoke quietly such that only Seifer heard him. "Don't let them... take my wings... please..."

Shushing him softly, the green-eyed man kissed the sweaty forehead. "I'll tell the healers to make you whole again."

With a pained smiled, Squall closed his eyes. "Thank you... for not deserting..."

The winged man drifted off into unconsciousness, becoming a heavy burden to the already exhausted blond. Even so, Seifer couldn't contain his broad grin at the lithe man who appeared remarkably small in his tight hold. After a sharp command for Nida to lead the way, the former commander walked steadily out of the large room, never looking back at the murdered sorceress or his sword resting in the split blood.

* * *

[Epilogue]

A warm breeze slipped through an open window, causing the sheer curtains to flow with the melodic ringing of a distant wind chime. His face half-buried in a pillow smelling of roses, Seifer hummed appreciatively as he fought against his drowsy state. His changed hand clawed lightly at silky sheets with every motion along his back.

"Ready?"

Seifer frowned at the question. "No, don't... feels good..."

"I have to remove the dead skin eventually."

A half-hearted growl escaped the blond.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Squall said with an amused air, just before rubbing his warmed and oiled hand along the scaled upper back.

"Ow, ow, _ow_! Not so rough, you sadist."

The brunet chuckled. "You can handle a broken arm with hardly a grunt, but you become a baby whenever molting season comes around."

Hiding his pout against the pillow, Seifer suffered through the removal of shedding skin from his golden scales. Over the years, Squall had gotten skilled at doing it as fast and as painless as possible, but the juncture of scale and skin was always hypersensitive, especially when new scales made their appearance. And Seifer had the suspicion that his angel enjoyed causing him pain in the name of 'helping'.

Finished with a scaled area at the back of his leg, Squall said, "Alright, time to roll over."

The blond eagerly followed the order and sharp green eyes focused on the nude form kneeling at the foot of the bed. The stormy-eyed man hadn't changed much since the first time Seifer had met him, and the differences there were along the lithe body highly appealed to the large man. Various scars covered the lightly colored skin, many of which caused by Seifer himself during their rougher moments in bed. The blue-gray eyes had lost their shadows and pained gazes, replaced by the brighter gleam of hope and pleasure. And pristine white feathers gleamed in the early morning light, but the right wing would forever hold its noticeable arch from the bad break at the end of the revolution. Even so, Squall rarely missed out on his daily flights to keep his wings strong.

Finished with the scaled patches on the legs and arms, Squall sat on the toned stomach of the blond. "You're smiling," he stated suspiciously.

"And you're beautiful."

The brunet scoffed lightly while placing oil onto his fingertips. "Would it kill you to call me handsome on occasion?"

"No, but 'handsome' just doesn't suit you."

Choosing not to retort, Squall leaned forward and began to treat the scaled cheek.

Seifer closed his eyes with a soft hum at the gentle touch, once again fighting sleep as the irritated area was soothed by the oil. Hearing the faint chimes again, he smiled. "I like it here."

"I believe that was why we bought this flat."

Smiling wider, Seifer said, "I thought it was because you wanted to protect everyone from me." He then added, "Think Nida will forgive me for ruining his jacket?"

Squall scoffed. "It was his own fault to not see the signs that you were molting. And he has forgiven you for the other shirts and jackets you've shredded beyond repair."

Apparently done with removing dead skin, the winged man leaned down further to initiate a soft kiss. Seifer responded eagerly as he raked his unchanged fingers through thick hair and coaxed the brunet to deepen the joining. The kiss eventually broke and Squall moved to rest tiredly against the larger man's body.

"At least you don't seem afraid of the dragon in me," Seifer muttered while kissing dark hair.

"I know how to handle you."

"Which includes whisking me away at midnight? You do realize that we haven't slept in over thirty-six hours because of your stunt."

Squall shrugged. "You wouldn't admit that you needed to get away, even after you tore off the sleeve of Nida's jacket."

With no further desire complain, especially since the massage had soothed away the irritating burn of his scales, Seifer stroked claws along cool skin. "Why have you bothered keeping me around this long, o' wise Senator?"

The brunet made an irritated noise at the title his father forced upon him. "Maybe I should leave you here when I go back."

"I'm serious. Aren't you bored of me yet?"

After a short time of silence, Squall shifted closer against the larger body. "You're like my wings."

"What, angelic and perfect?"

A rare snort a laughter escaped the man. "Hardly... No, I despised my wings at first, and I think I will always hate the damned things, but I can no longer imagine my life without them. And I don't really want to live without them. Or you," he added almost shyly.

With a smug grin, Seifer said, "Well, it's a relief to know that I'm not just a living fuck toy to you." Feeling the pout forming against his skin, the blond laughed. "Alright, alright. I love you, too, you feather-brained idiot."

Squall sat up sharply, his eyes narrowed as he glared at the prone man. "I didn't say anything about love."

Laughing louder, Seifer reached up to stroke his claws along the pale neck. "Yes, you did."

The typically stony eyes wavered at the firm tone and he frowned in thought before lying down once more. "This is love?"

"Fuck, don't sound so disappointed."

"I'm not. Just... surprised."

"You didn't think you'd end up with a bastard like me," Seifer stated for him.

"Perhaps, but... I thought relationships were different."

The blond chuckled. "Have you been watching soap operas behind my back? Or is it that Nida has been boring you with his tales about his new girlfriend?"

"I don't have time to stare at the vid screen," Squall replied, which meant that he had been listening to their dark-eyed friend over drinks during too many evenings.

"Well, his adventures in romance work for some people. Meanwhile, there's our type of relationship which is... easier."

"Easier..." the brunet repeated as if testing out the word. Eventually his arm moved to encircle the larger man's waist and squeezed slightly before he adjusted the position of his head on the broad shoulder.

Smiling softly at the silent acceptance of their relationship, Seifer closed his eyes to block out the dim morning light and focused his attention on the ocean-hinted scent of his lover and the quiet chiming which sounded with the gentle breeze. A large wing shifted to cover both of their bare bodies, and Seifer found the caress of the lengthy feathers more appealing than the cool sheets beneath him. Pale lips forming a smug smirk, the blond shifted to kiss dark hair.

"G'night, angel. I'll fuck you when we wake."

An irritated huff sounded. "If you must."

{Owari}


End file.
